You Are My Only One: EXTENDED ENDING
by Lemony Apple
Summary: EXTENDED ENDING! MORE TO LOVE! OMG THIS FIC IS TOTALLY COMPLETED! SEQUEL TO FOOLS WITH STARRY EYES! Who ever said Meg and Erik lived happily ever after was a fool. Little Jammes is on the warpath for revenge... and Meg will do anything to protect her man
1. Wild Fire

PLEASE NOTE! THIS IS A SEQUEL TO MY STORY '_FOOLS WITH STARRY EYES_'! IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THAT STORY, YOU WILL NOT UNDERSTAND THIS ONE! PLEASE READ THAT ONE ( _FOOLS WITH STARRY EYES_) FIRST!

You Are the Only One

Chapter I- Wild Fire

* * *

Meg's disappearance spread through wild fire through the Opera House. Some of the ballet girls had figured that she had run off with the Phantom ("She always was odd!" said Odette to the smallest ballerina). They enjoyed discussing just where they could be. The most popular destination they could think of was America or England. Almost every one that eloped ended up somewhere in England or America. It was a staple of eloping. 

While the ballet girls where discussing, the Stage Hands were betting. They bet just how long it would take for Meg to turn up in some Homeless Shelter in Paris, as the Angel dumped her for some new sexy protégée. The main runners were two years and five weeks.

They didn't even stop when Madame Giry entered the room, but they did have the decency to lower their voices.

Madame Giry recorded all of this in her letters to Meg, except the parts about the Stage Hands betting pool. She knew it would only fret her daughter. Thus she skipped over the betting pools and only mentioned that the Opera House was buzzing over her disappearance. Meg was awfully delighted that they were fretting- a small revenge to a wicked place.

Little Jammes was not idle during this. She spent most of her days trying to find as much information as she could about the whereabouts of Meg. She had whittled down England and America. Even though the Ghost was supposedly rich- he was not _that _rich.

_No one_ could buy a visa on such short notice.

She couldn't wait to exact her revenge upon the couple. It would be _so_ sweet.

Meanwhile, the Emperor was still hanging around the Opera House. He visited all the places that Meg had visited. It made many people very nervous- Meg had refused him, so why was he still hanging around the Opera Populaire?

It was around that time when Little Jammes had an idea. She went up to the Emperor and murmured "Your Grace," and curtsied deeply. The Emperor turned around and sighed.

"What do you want?"

"My Grace," she said, slipping her arm through the Emperor's arm and guided him out of the auditorium. "What if I told you that I have a suspicion that I may know where your dear Meg Giry is, and that I will gladly help you in getting her back?"

* * *

Okay, sorry its such a short chapter… but I swear it will be much longer! Please Reviewww! 


	2. The Only One

Chapter II- The Only One

* * *

"Meg, I don't like being a model," Erik growled, rolling his eyes. "Can't you pick someone that is a little more… normal-looking?" 

Meg glared at him, looking at him over the side of her drawing pad. "If you don't stop moving, I won't get the shape of your head right. I've already erased it several times already!" She said, holding up the roll she did not eat at dinner, and was now using as an eraser.

"My face _isn't _right," he said, leaned back into his seat and crossed his arms.

"Oh, stop being such a Drama Ghost." She said, smiling at him. "I think you're cute." Erik looked up at the ceiling at her words. Meg couldn't tell, but she thought Erik was blushing through his mask.

Finished with her last stroke of charcoal, she turned it around so Erik could take a look at himself. He sniffed, like he didn't like what he saw, and turned away. Meg was hurt at his gesture. She frowned and said; "Well, if you don't like it…" and stuffed the portrait behind the arm chair she was sitting in, and crossed her arms and legs.

"You know I like your drawings," Erik said, exasperated, leaning over and grabbing one of Meg's dirty, charcoal-covered hand.

"You are a liar," She said, pursing her lips and looking up at the ceiling. Erik smiled. Whenever she insulted him, he knew she was softening. He slid off of the couch and onto the floor.

"I just would like you to sketch something other than me. You should sketch someone beautiful. Maybe you should sketch one of, I don't know, you, maybe?"

"I like sketching you." She said, down looking at him. "I love you," His heart skipped a beat when he heard her declaration.

He was just about to kiss her- his lips could almost touch her, he could feel her, she was so close- when she suddenly pulled away. Looking pale, she ran out of the house, and into the garden. Erik could hear her retching.

He followed her trail outside and found her in the rose garden, shivering from her sickness -whatever it was- and leaning against the walls of their house. Knowing the only thing he could do to help her, he did it. He handed his wife his best handkerchief.

She smiled, (weakly) and took it. She couldn't help but wonder though; how would he take her suspicion…?

* * *

Little Jammes was not one to admit defeat so easily. Even though she had not figured out Meg and her _husband's_ hiding place- it was only a matter of time. After all, she had an Emperor on her side… and not just any Emperor, but _the_ Emperor. Little Jammes felt sure that he would use everything in his power to discover Meg, and marry her (by force, if necessary). 

If he didn't, he was weaker and more pathetic than what Little Jammes and expected him to be. And that would make her job much harder than what she had wanted it.

So instead of taking the Emperor's suggested route- to ask Madame Giry where she thought Meg was ("That would just arise suspicion," she told him)- she decided to ask around the Opera House. Eventually _someone_ intelligent would say something about where Meg was hidden.

Unfortunately, that was not the case. All the ballet girls worth talking to declared that "They must be in England!" or "They must be in America!"

Little Jammes supposed it was her fault for relying so heavily on the word of mouth. So the task came to Little Jammes to ask Madame Giry for Meg's address.

Little Jammes was quite sure Madame Giry (the stupid hag!) would get the plot and fire her. She, even though her daughter had ELOPED, (the shame of an eloped prodigy! Little Jammes could barely imagine) had stuck by Meg. Thus were her thoughts as she approached Madame Giry, in hopes to procure the information.

"Why, my dear, of course you may write to Meg!" Madame Giry said, touched at Little Jammes' question. "If you could give me your letters I would gladly send them to her for you,"

"Oh, but my dear Madame Giry," Mariette said, easing Madame Giry off of her cautious side. "It would put my heart at rest if I, myself, could address those letters. Because they are awfully personal, and if yours and mine got separated in the mail, I would be very uneasy, for they might have gone astray, and not arrived to Meg at all!"

"Oh," Madame Giry said. "I hadn't thought of that. Oh my," Madame Giry started thinking, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

This was unbelievable- the supposed most intelligent person in the Opera Populaire was just handing over her son-in-law's death sentence! Mariette had half a mind to laugh at the Old Bag.

"You have Meg's address?" the Emperor said, looking at Little Jammes expectantly when she had arrived at their meeting place.

She nodded yes, and pulled out the note; written in Madame Giry's hand. Little Jammes handed it to the Emperor, who looked at it, stunned.

"_Anjou_? What's that, some town no one has ever heard before? Who lives _there?_"

Well, Meg and the Opera Ghost. _Obviously_!

The Emperor left the room without a word of thank you. Well, whoever taught him his manners needed to be _shot_.


	3. Crumbling Down

Chapter III- Crumbling Down

* * *

Meg bided her time in telling Erik- if she miscarried, he would be even more devastated than she- if that was possible. 

So Meg spent a month of waiting, praying, and hoping for the baby. And enduring morning sickness, which proved to be almost as unpleasant as their servants when they said they would be slightly late on their salaries (thank goodness they only had Jean-Paul and Caressa!)

Thus, Meg suffered alone until June 19th. Erik was in the parlor, playing the pianoforte, at the time she decided to bite the bullet and do it. He was composing music. Meg thought the music was up beat in tempo and tune, so she had better interrupt him whilst he was composing music like that.

She stood on the doorframe, feeling a little like Marie Antoinette as she went to the Guillotine. She hadn't meant to do it on purpose!

Come to think of it, how would she tell him? She had never saw any woman say to their husband "Honey, we're going to be parents," or something much more rude, but along the same lines.

Erik didn't even notice her. He just went on scribbling on the parchment that he had drawn musical bars on. Occasionally he would play a note on the pianoforte, and if he liked it, he would draw it in. If he didn't, he normally murmured "No, no, sharp," or even the rare "Should be flat,"

She snuck up behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing the back of his head, then the nape of his neck.

"I can't compose if you're doing _that,_" He said, turning his head to look at her. "What?" He looked nervous at the way she was looking at him.

This was going to be a lot harder than she thought. She collapsed on the sofa.

"My God, are the police here?" he said, standing up and pacing around the room.

"Erik," she said, rolling her eyes at her husband. "Don't you think we'd be in the Closet if the police came?"

"Oh," he said. "Meg, I wish you would just tell me! You're scaring me,"

Her mother probably told her father she was pregnant with Meg in a very romantic way. Her husband just worried about the _police_.

"We're having a baby," Meg said, but Erik was talking over her.

"Really, Meg, I have no idea what's going on anymore… Caressa keeps mumbling how clueless men are, and Jean-Paul keeps giving me furtive glances- wait, what?"

"We're,-well, I am- pregnant. I'm having a baby."

That was just about the time when Erik fainted dead away. Meg shrieked, and the servants carried him to bed, resuscitated him with smelling salts, and then Caressa and Jean-Paul, realizing that Meg FINALLY told Erik, left the room.

"You really mean it?" he said, weakly. "…a baby?" Meg nodded and smiled, and he laid his head on her lap, and she stroked his face lovingly.

"What if I'm not a good father?" he said.

"Oh, Erik," she said, slightly annoyed. "You'll be a fine father, alright?"

Meg got up from the bed with the intent to go make some lunch. He grabbed her hips and turned her around, and buried his head on her stomach. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

Caressa ran up the stairs and barged into the room, panting. "Master, Mistress!" she said, leaning against the wall, trying to catch her breath. "The police!"

The couple sprang into action. The servants were told to behave like Erik and Meg were not at home. Meg and Erik hid in the closet, and Erik locked it with his key.

Erik shoved Meg into the corner and covered her body with his, so she could not be seen if any policemen came in.

"They are not at home, sir." Jean-Paul's calm voice came from the door. Erik and Meg did not breathe. Their fear intensified their silence.

"We don't believe you," the Officer said, and they could hear boots stomping and scraping against the floor as they stomped around the house. Erik covered Meg's mouth, so she could not make a sound. His usual smell of death (which she usually didn't mind) only made her feel worse.

The Policeman (the one who didn't believe Jean-Paul) stopped outside the door to the closet and shook it. The door was locked.

Erik turned away from the door and faced Meg. Even though his mask, Meg could tell he was frightened, and he was sweating. If this had been a much less serious situation, she would have thought it was adorable. He put his arms on either side of her, protecting her incase of gunshots.

She wanted to wrap her arms around him. He looked so brave and strong. If he was as frightened as she was (she was so frightened she was shivering), he wasn't showing it… well, as much as she was showing it.

"This door!" The policeman said. "What's behind it?"

"Coats," Caressa said.

"Unlock it!" He growled.

"We don't have keys." Jean-Paul said, meekly.

The Police knew they were behind the door! Meg's hands gripped Erik's lapels on his jacket and squeezed. Erik pressed Meg's head against his chest.

This was it, it was the end. Erik would be charged for murder and would hang. She felt like weeping.

The door was rammed against. Someone was trying to break it down.

"You know I love you," he whispered in her ear. "If I'm arrested, I'll escape and come back to…"

The door was knocked off of its hinges and tossed away. Police officers swarmed into the closet and dragged Erik into the hall.

"Erik!" She screamed, and followed them.

"Let's see what's behind the Ghost's mask!" Police Man Number One, the youngest, taunted, forcing Erik to kneel, and holding his hair in a fist, making Erik face up.

"No," Meg screamed, and ran at One. "Let him go!"

"No, Meg," Erik said, wearily.

"Look at this, boys," Police Man Number Three, who was nearest to Meg, cried. He grabbed her wrist and held it behind her back. "The Ghost's _slut!_"

"No they're married!" One said. "Look at their wedding rings! Who would have thought the old _Opera Ghost_ had someone who loved him?"

"I want to kiss the bride!" Said Number Five, the drunkest.

"Me too!"

"My dear," said Number One, and one of his hands stroked Meg's leg. "You could have done so much better!" She stiffened and tried to move away. In response, One moved his hand higher, punishing her. "What's the matter, you sullied your reputation?"

She slapped his hand away. Police Officer Seven grabbed her other hand.

"I still want my 'kiss'!" Number Five slurred and stumbled over to her. His foul lips almost touched hers, and she bent over backwards, trying to avoid him. However, she was unsuccessful.

She had never felt so violated. It was even more unpleasant than the Emperor's teeth kiss.

"You bastard!" Erik yelled at him, and trying to get up. Policeman Number Eight had put his foot on Erik's back, so he could not rise. "Don't you dare touch her again!" He struggled against Eight, trying to protect Meg.

"I think the Ghost has a soft spot for the Ghostess!" One kicked Erik over, and his face landed painfully against the floor. Meg gave a little cry.

"Stop it!" She wrenched herself away from the policemen and tried to attack Number One. She got a good kick in- but Number One pushed her against the wall like a rag doll. She hit the corner of the room. There was a loud crack, and she felt something warm against the back of her head… and she crumpled to the floor, and felt no more.

* * *

AHH! –Dodges tomatoes-

I know… poor Eriky. I feel so bad for him… -sigh- well, DON'T WORRY.

That's all I have to say.

Oh, and Review Song time! WOOO!

MEG

Say you'll share with  
Lemony one  
review a chapter . . .  
say the word  
and she will follow you . . .

Share each day with  
it, each  
night, each morning . . .  
Say you love it! . . .

READERS  
You know we do . . .

MEG  
Review it -  
that's all we ask  
of you . . .

Anywhere you go  
please review! .  
review it, -  
that's all I ask  
of you!


	4. Protecting You

OMG! I just took a quiz that said that what I'd be if I was in Phantom… my name would be Victoire, I'd closely resemble MEG, I'd be the Head Ballerina, People would like me, and ERIK WOULD LOVE ME!

-falls flat on back because of ecstasy-

Chapter IV- Protecting You

* * *

"Meg?"

It was a man's voice talking to her. What was happening to her? She felt so… sluggish. She dreamt that it was Erik's voice calling to her, and she smiled.

"Erik, where are you?" she murmured softly. He called her name again, and this time she felt something wet against her cheek, and it caused her eyes to flutter open.

It wasn't Erik's face who was above her, but the Emperor. "Oh!" she said, trying to sit up, but feeling dizzy. The Emperor provided an arm to support her, which she used, gratefully.

Taking a good look around the room, she gasped. The room was trashed- the chairs they had scrimped and saved for were ripped and broken. Her favorite portrait of Erik that used to hang about the mantle was ripped into a million tiny pieces and the beautiful frame laid broken into two pieces. The rest of the things Erik and Meg had bought together- their lovely china figurines, the pianoforte- were ruined.

Meg started to weep at the sight. It was not tears of sadness at losing the expensive items… but their Sanctuary from the Past was destroyed. The things that they had experienced were supposed to have been forgotten, and shielded away.

It was a reminder that the past would always catch up with them. It would never leave them be. All they wanted was to be alone, just to be alone.

Upon an untouched chair, was something white… Meg crawled over to look at what it was. It was Erik's mask. It had brought them together once, would it do it again?

* * *

The Emperor held the weeping Meg in his arms, and wondered, just for a moment, if what he was doing was right. Meg certainly did seem to be in love with that _Ghost_. On the other hand, the Ghost was very good at deluding people, and Meg could very well be deluded.

Or confused! There was nothing worse than being confused.

There was no way that Meg could have fallen for the Ghost in her free will. It was just too… strange.

Not to mention a bit insulting. The Emperor dabbed the back of Meg's head a bit, getting the blood out of her hair. Meg looked at him.

"Where did they take my husband?"

"They arrested him, of course," He said, and Meg got up, uneasily, onto her feet.

"What!" She screamed. "I have to find him!" Running her fingers through her hair, she turned to the Emperor and grabbed him by the lapels. "You must take me to him, please!"

"Meg, you are not in any condition to go anywhere," the Emperor said calmly, sitting her down on the ruined couch.

"Please," she said, and she began to cry.

Oh no. He had never dealt with a crying woman before. How to handle this one?

"Fine," he said. "We can visit him after we get your head bandaged."

Relieved, Meg allowed the Emperor to bandage her up… not really realizing what his presence meant.

* * *

"This lady is to visit the Opera Ghost," the Emperor said to the prison guard, who was surprised that Erik had _any_ visitors.

"Number Three," he said, "… but don't go inside the cell," and said something aside to the Emperor, who waved him off, and motioned for Meg to go in, which she did, happily.

That was, until Meg saw the cells. The bricks were covered by hay, and it was dirty, and smelled bad. In each cell she passed there was a man, who cat-called her, told her to come back, that they were lonely. A few whistled.

She found Erik at the end of the prison. He was curled up in the far corner, maskless and without a shirt. Her fingers curled around the wrought iron bars, and she called his name softly.

He recognized his wife's voice, and he looked up. He looked down at the floor (or what passed as a floor), like he was ashamed he was there. She stuck her arm through the bars, trying to touch him, to comfort him.

He must have realized it wasn't a dream- he walked to his cell bars and took her hand. "Meg," he said, softly. "You shouldn't have come,"

"I wanted to," she said, slightly breathless. "Oh, Erik, how are we going to get out of this one?"

"I doubt I am," He said, and looked to the side of the cell, where there was a noose hanging in the corner. It was a sort of cruel foreshadowing of what was to happen to him. When he turned to look, Meg saw long scars that went down his back. Horrified, she started to cry.

Knowing she had seen his scars, he tried to touch her face. "I don't cry," he said, meaning it to be some kind of comfort.

"Erik, I'll get you out of here," Meg promised, taking his hand through the bars. "I promise, and we'll go someplace where no one can find us."

Erik obviously didn't believe her, but he kept silent. They stood in silence, trying to think what to say to comfort one another. Finally, she presented his mask to him, which she had wrapped, yet again, with a handkerchief.

"What's this?" he said, surprised. "You wrapped my mask," he said, giving her a small smile. Suddenly feeling confused, he said, "Where did you know where to find me?"

"When I woke up, the Emperor was there, and he took me to you," she said, still not making the connection.

"The Emperor!" Erik said, and stiffened. "Meg, don't trust him-,"

"Okay, time's up, Princess!" said the Jailor, and grabbed Meg's gown by the collar, jerking her out of Erik's reach. She could see Erik's arm desperately trying to grab on to her, but to no avail. She was literally dragged out of the Prison and thrown outside.

* * *

Yes, yes, you all hate me, I know. –Puts up vegetable and fruit shield-

Really, though… it is needed for the plot… ALL I CAN SAY IS DON'T WORRY ABOUT ERIK.

You guys don't really think I'd kill my 'Boo', would I? ;)


	5. Discussion

Can I just say that whenever I try to type 'Men' I always type Meg? (I did it just then too.) HAHA. Guess I've been writing about Meg for a long time! (But I love Meggy, so it's all cool.)

REVIEWERS:  
…GET ON WITH IT!

NON-REVIEWERS:  
…Yeah, GET ON WITH IT!

Yay for Monty Python! And now, for some Chapter Five du jour.

Chapter V- Discussion

* * *

"He said not to trust the Emperor," Meg said to her mother, who was wiping her daughter's forehead. Madame Giry had arrived at the Cottage the day after Meg had visited Erik in that Hell-Hole-Called-A-Prison. Meg had written Madame Giry, begging her to come help her daughter and her husband. 

Madame Giry, who was very surprised at receiving Meg's distressed letter (when all her other ones were so bright and cheery) that she packed one suitcase and left Paris immediately. She came to the Cottage to find the house hopelessly destroyed and Meg on the verge of hysteria.

Slightly shocked, she sat Meg down on one of the least ruined of the sofas, and calmed Meg down enough for her to tell Madame Giry what exactly was going on.

Madame Giry put two and two together- she knew she had been double crossed by Little Jammes.

Whatever Little Jammes thought she was, Madame Giry was absolutely not a fool.TheBallet Instructorhad switched the numbers of Meg's address around, so they would go to the wrong house. However, they must have figured out their real address.

Madame Giry, for probably the first time in her life, looking at her sobbing and miserable daughter, felt very, very, guilty.

"Meg, darling," Madame Giry said carefully. "You must think about this," She fixed Meg a drink, but she didn't touch it. Was she…? No, it wasn't possible. That was just pushing it… How long were they married for again?

"How would the Emperor know where you live unless, well, he knew?"

"Are you saying the _EMPEROR_ is behind Erik being arrested?" She said, starting to laugh.

"Yes, Meg, and Erik knows it too. Why else would he tell you to beware of him?"

Meg, feeling slightly ill at being deluded, collapsed against the sofa. "I can't believe this." Caressa came in and laid a bag of ice on Meg's head.

"What can we do?" Meg said, talking to both her mother and Caressa.

"I'd say you best get cozy with that Emperor if you want the Master back," Caressa said, innocently looking at her hands.

"WHAT?" Meg said, leaning forward, making the Ice Bag slip and fall off of her head and onto the sofa. "No, I can't do that."

"Why not?" Her mother said. My God, had everyone gone insane? "Because I'm married, _that's why. _Honestly,_"_ Meg said, throwing her hands up. "This is just ridiculous."

"Ridiculous, but it would work." Madame Giry said, thoughtfully.

"I AM NOT COZYING UP TO MY EX FIANCE!" Meg yelled. She apologized as her maid and her mother winced at her tone. "It wouldn't be right." She explained.

Well that and she couldn't stand the man… and that he could have put her husband in jail… and that he was too obsessed with his hair, which Meg found a bit disturbing.

"Well, Marguerite, dear, I don't know what to tell you. I'm sure you'll think of something."

There was a knock at the door, and Meg felt faint again. Jean-Paul went to the door and opened it… to reveal another police man.

He strode to Meg (who was becoming pale again) and held up his scroll. "Marguerite Giry, you are hereby commanded to attend the trial of Erik, the Opera Ghost, on the Thirty-first of July, where you will be called upon the stand to testify."

* * *

Sorry it was so short, guys. But the next chapter will be nice, long, and possibly angst-y! 

REVIEW RESPONSE TIME!

Jeez, remind me to never upset you guys EVER AGAIN. ('Cause when **Shadowfairy** gets her hands on tomatoes, she's pretty scary. –still wiping off tomato paste-)

**Satha**, you made the Emperor cry with your tomato throwing antics! Good Job! YAY! Throw onions next, 'kay?

**Kristinekat**'s cat's ears are so totally the bomb. I want some…

runs away from **Littlelotte's** death stare- GAHHH

**BDP, **I love the name Aurore! But will I use it as the baby's name? Hm… (DUN DUN DUNNNN)

(dun dun dun dun dunnnn –Erik starts playing PHANTOM THEME SONG-)

OH YES… and since you guys wanted to know where I took the test? Go to MemeGen dot com, then search for 'Your Phantom of the Opera Self (for Girls) by ladylomode'.

-MEG, and SOME RANDOM BACK UP DANCERS walk on stage.-

MEG:

Was a time when I did not review oh no  
I had never known it  
Had never tried to sooo  
Then one day Lemony said to "review for me  
It's pretty cool and it helps me write, you see!"

I said I'll review it, I'll give it a whirl  
And now I am a reviewing girl  
I said I'll review it, I'll give it a whirl  
And now I am a reviewing girl

First I tried reviewing  
Only the first chaps  
Then I tried all of them  
And that was pretty sweet!  
Then I tried some advice, and that was  
helpfully sweet  
now reviewing is my favorite thing!

I'm glad I said I'll review it, I'll give a whirl  
'Cause now I am a reviewing girl  
I'm glad I said I'll review it, I'll give a whirl  
'Cause now I am a reviewing girl

RANDOM BACK UP DANCER GABRIELLA:  
Girl, girl, she's a reviewing girl

MEG

Review it!

RANDOM BACK UP DANCER SHARONA:  
Girl, she's a reviewing girl)

MEG

Review it!

RANDOM BACKUP DANCER DEIRDRE  
Girl, girl, she's a reviewing girl

MEG

Review it!

RANDOM BACKUP DANCER MARY  
Girl, she's a reviewing girl

-Jazz hands finale-


	6. A Boy Like That

HANGMAN- When the victim of the torture is made to have a noose put around their neck, and stand on a (probably unsteady) stool while the torturers pull the rope tighter around their necks.

(People have died from this 'game')

Chapter VI- A Boy Like That

* * *

Meg went to visit Erik once more before the trial. She waited three hours before the Jailors would let her see her husband, to only be allowed ten minutes with him. Meg ran along the cells and ignored the usual catcalls and tripped on an uneven brick, and collapsed at the foot of Erik's cell. 

Erik helped her up the best he could through the bars (which wasn't very helpful at all, but Meg appreciated the gentlemanly gesture). She waited to catch her breath, and then (still panting) asked him if he knew about his trial.

Which, of course, he knew about. Then Meg asked if he knew if she was testifying for him. Which, of course, he didn't know about.

Erik started pacing around, and yelling in a different language. Meg couldn't understand a word that was coming out of his mouth- to her it sounded mashed together… or maybe it was because he was speaking so fast.

"Erik," she said, trying to jog him back into reality. "Erik!" she said, this time a bit louder. "ERIK!"

He finally stopped when Meg grabbed his dirty sleeve (the Jailors finally allowed him to wear his shirt when Meg appealed to them). "Are you speaking Arabic?" she said, incredulously.

He was just going to open his mouth to respond when Meg noticed a long burn around his neck- right above his collar. It was a rope burn. The same kinds of burns were also on his wrists. Over in the corner the noose was raised higher and the three-legged stool had toppled over. She traced the burns on his wrists with her finger.

They were playing Hangman with him.

"They are still mistreating you," she said, softly. "They can't do this to you, I won't let them!"

"Don't, Meg, it will only make things worse."

"They can't go on treating you like this, it's against the law!" she yelled, furious at how he was taking his own torture.

"They ARE the law!" He yelled right back at her. "They can do whatever they like and they know it!"

Her hands slipped from his and curled around the prison bars. 

"I'll appeal to the Emperor," she said softly. "He'll help us."

"He's the one who brought me here in the first place!" Erik ran a frustrated hand through his hair and started pacing about the cell again. "God, Meg, it won't change a thing!"

* * *

Meg arrived at the trial early. She decided that if she was to testify, she might as well get it over with as soon as possible, so she could take Erik home. The jury would find him innocent- she knew it, they HAD to. 

What would someone wear to a trial? She had never been to one before, nor known anyone who had been to a trial. She decided to wear a black modest and simple gown. She wore her crucifix outside of her dress that day. She hoped to make an impression of a pious, loving and religious person. Hopefully she did the right thing.

Speaking of right things… would the attorneys be fair? Would the judge be wise? Would the jury be impartial? Mg felt cornered and scared again. Meg didn't even ask Erik, she assumed he had a good lawyer. But once she was actually _in _the court, she wasn't so sure.

Erik would only hire the best. He wouldn't take half measures.

After four hours of excruciating boredom, the Meg was led into the courtroom by policemen (she was getting very sick of police!) and sat down on the defense side. She looked around. Who would attend Erik, the Opera Ghost's trial?

She saw Caressa and Jean-Paul sitting in the back of the defense side, hand in hand. Meg had forgotten they were married. They were so loyal. Meg waved back. Mama walked in the courtroom, looked around, and sat next to her daughter. Madame Giry squeezed Meg's hand gently.

Then Meg spotted Comtesse Christine de Chagny. Meg's blood ran cold to see Christine. Was Christine on Erik's side? Was she testifying for the defense?

No, it wasn't possible. She had to be for the prosecution.

The Comtesse and Mrs. Giry looked at one another. They had been friends once. It was a long ago, it seemed. Time had changed them to best friends, to rivals, to bitter enemies over the men they loved. Christine had moved up and out of the Opera Populaire and went on to a new life.

Christine looked sad when she saw Meg. Maybe she was regretting what had happened to them, just like Meg did. The moment was cut short when the gavel hit the Judge's bench and Christine looked away.

* * *

"The Prosecution calls Mrs. Marguerite Giry to the stand!" 

Meg sighed as she was called up. She hoped they had forgotten about her. She moved to the stand, sworn in, and sat down.

"Mrs.… Giry." The Prosecution Attorney said, fumbling for what to call Meg. "What relation is the defendant to you?"

"He's my husband." Meg said calmly. There were many moans of disgust and shivers from the crowd. The judge banged on the gavel to quiet the audience, and Meg jumped at the sound.

"Mrs. Giry, after your rape-," the Attorney said, pacing about the room.

"I'm sorry, rape?" she said, cutting in. "I was never raped!"

"Are you saying all sex you had was consensual?"

"Of course it was!" Meg said, blushing crimson. "In any case, I don't think it's right to talk about this now, after all, there are children in the room and I-,"

"Mrs. Giry, maybe you are suffering under the delusion that the defendant married you because he loved you. We all know that he was in love with someone else."

Christine _again?_ She was always brought up in conversation.

"Well… yes, he was."

"Then why on earth marry someone that wasn't her?"

"Because he fell in love with me too!" she snapped. This was making her feel uneasy.

"Did he ever _say_ he loved you?"

"Yes," she said, blushing. Erik just that day had told her that he loved her. He called her an Angel of Mercy. He had never called her that before, or in fact, any endearments.

"Mrs. Giry, you don't have to be ashamed- we are going to make sure he never hurts you again!"

"Hurts me? What on earth are you talking about?"

"Mrs. Giry, has your husband ever become violent?"

"No,"

"Has he ever hit, slapped or punched you?"

"No!"

"Has he ever threatened to hurt you if you didn't obey his orders?"

Now this was _not _good. Meg couldn't answer this one with complete honesty- Erik _had_ threatened her- ONCE. It was in the letter she received from him right after she took his mask.

"I see by your silence he has,"

"Only once!"

"Mrs. Giry, would your husband hurt you if you didn't obey his orders?"

"Never! Erik is a French gentleman."

"Missus Giry- do French gentleman kill in cold blood?"

"No, but-,"

"Do French gentlemen threaten their wives?"

"No, but-,"

"Then what makes him a French Gentleman?"

"Sir," Meg said, shivering in contempt for him. "You have embarrassed us long enough. My husband isn't perfect- I know this, and that's why I fell in love with him. But I have to explain that everyone makes mistakes. You, me, my husband, the judge, and everyone on that jury! My husband and I just wanted to be alone and escape the past.

"If you are going to convict Erik on trivial evidence and non-existent charges like my 'rape' and say he should die, then I weep for you. For everyone in this room has killed someone, with their hearts, with their words, or with their hands. I offer you the proverbial stone and ask for someone without sin to throw it."

The courtroom remained silent after what Meg said. Many in the audience looked at one another nervously. Even some of the jurors looked uncomfortable.

* * *

The next called was Christine. She sat down on the bench serenely, like in a dream. 

"Comtesse," The prosecutor said. Meg tried to ignore the way Erik was looking at Christine. He was looking at her in that devoted look that Meg loved.

First despair welled into her, then anger, then hatred. Didn't he see she was a married woman? She had no place for him in his heart- no place like Meg had given him, and he had taken, hungrily.

But was he just looking for love anywhere? He would marry the first girl who mopped up his tears? He said he loved Meg, he actually said 'I love you', and touched her with love and affection, and each time they kissed, he cradled her face like how he did at the Non-Wedding.

'But does he mean to do those things?' a nasty little voice said in her subconscious. 'He was probably picturing you were Christine!'

Meg's green eyes closed with hurt. She didn't know what to do- or what to even trust. The seeds the attorney had planted had taken roots and were beginning to grow in her heart. Doubt plagued her. How could she bring their baby girl- or boy- into the world with this mess going on?

Stop it, Meg thought. Just stop and watch.

Christine was answering a question. Erik's eyes turned from utter devotion to sad love. He looked in pain.

She suddenly hated both of them. My God, what was she DOING? She felt terrible. It wasn't Erik's fault she was so jealous of Christine.

"So, Phillipe de Chagny was killed by the defendant?"

"Yes"

"Why?"

"He wanted to stop Erik."

Meg stood up suddenly, unable to keep her anger inside. She stomped out of the courtroom and into the lobby, causing another stunned silence. As she left, she could feel Erik's yellow eyes on her back. She couldn't stand to be in that room any moment longer than necessary.

She breathed in and out, to relax herself. The Emperor emerged from the courtroom. Funny, Meg hadn't even noticed he was there.

"Meg, dearest," he said, trying to calm her.

"You see the way he looks at her!" she said, pounding her fist against the marble wall. "After all that's happened!"

Her hand hurt and she moved it away from the marble. The Emperor took her little bruised hand in his.

"I will do whatever you ask me to do," he said, quietly, looking at her in that same way Erik was looking at Christine. Sad love.

"Release Erik," she begged. "Release my husband!"

"That is a thing, Meg, even an Emperor cannot do. Erik's fate hangs with the people of my empire now."

Meg pulled her hands away and looked away from the Emperor.

"Then please let him come home today. Put him under house arrest. Just please, let him spend time with his wife and his home." The Emperor looked uncertain. Meg got on her hands and knees. "Please!"

Pulling Meg up, the Emperor agreed to house arrest. He walked back into the court room, looking like he was in torture with his decision.

* * *

OMG I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG! GAHHH!

_Peter Pan_ is currently ruling my life and I basically have NO TIME at ALL.

-Bows many times-

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	7. Self Doubt

Chapter VII- Self-Doubt

* * *

The Emperor was true to his word, and Erik was allowed to go home. Erik was very happy to have gotten out of prison, even if it only was until the defense presented their case and cross-examined all the witnesses. 

The arrangement was only for two months, but at least it was _some_ time.

The first half of the first month Erik and Meg spent almost completely out-of-doors. Erik was enjoying the sunshine for probably the first time in his life.

The missed each other. Meg had visited as often as she could, but she had almost forgotten how good it felt to be kissed by Erik, or even hugged. She had forgotten how they fit together.

Meg had also forgotten how much he soothed her. Meg had been very stressed with the trial, and she had found nothing to keep her mind off of it, or the fact that she constantly seemed to be losing her meals, or even at the very smell of food.

Erik's touch calmed her; he sang for her or played the piano for her. Music once again filled the house, and no one appreciated it more then lady of the house, who was disturbed by the eerie silence of the house while he was gone.

Thus Meg passed from the first trimester to the second, and began to show.

However, there was still a little bit of a problem- Meg was highly emotional from the baby, and would sometimes end up crying in some room, and no one could comfort her because the door was locked. Caressa, Jean-Paul, Madame Giry, and Erik had to persuade Meg to first come to the door, and then unlock it.

Of course, this was very trying on patience, and Erik was anything but patient. He blew up at Meg a few times, yelling at her to stop crying and being so hysterical. This, of course, only made things worse.

After Erik's third blow up, Meg had decided to give Jean-Paul and Caressa the night off. Meg cooked Erik's favorite that night to the best of her ability. However the stove was on steaming and Meg was quite sure she set the chicken on fire.

Erik came rushing into the kitchen. He must have followed the smoke. His jaw dropped as he surveyed what was happening- Meg was trying to wave away smoke that was billowing out of the oven. Erik pulled Meg away from the danger, and Meg collided with the wall painfully.

Erik then faced the oven, and then opened it, and coughed as another plume of smoke entered the room. He grasped the burning hot pan and pulled the charred remains of the chicken threw it into the sink, and pumped water on top of it. He felt pain- he must have burned his hands. He looked at them. First degree. He would put some butter on them, and then they'd be all right again.

He moved his attention to Meg, who was crying on the floor.

* * *

Meg felt terrible, she really did. "Erik," she said, wiping her tears away after she saw his hands. "I'm sorry." 

Mama may have nursed him back to health from the wounds Erik received from the Emperor, but she would heal his hands. She got the butter and gently smoothed it over his hands. Erik's face relaxed, and she knew the butter was doing its job.

She couldn't believe she burned it. She _never_ burned anything.

Actually, that was a lie. She burned a lot more things than naught. She had done everything- every single thing Caressa told her to do! What had gone wrong?

She bet perfect _Christine_ never burned a meal in her life. She probably made gourmet meals regularly. Probably three times a day.

Come to think of it, since Christine married an aristocrat, they were so rich, Christine didn't _need _to cook, so she could be just as bad as Meg was at it, and no one would be the wiser.

Somehow this didn't comfort her. Meg wrapped Erik's hands with old, ripped (yet very clean) linen, Meg's memory rested on what the attorney said. Was she only his companion, and nothing else?

"What am I to you, Erik?" she said, softly, as she was tying the last knot on his bandages.

"You know, Meg," Erik said surprised.

"Will you just say it?" Meg said, "Just so I can be sure?"

"You're my wife. Honestly, Meg, what has gotten into you?"

"Am I just your wife?" Meg said, pressing on, and hoping for a more romantic answer.

"You're my wife, and I love you." He said, as if Meg had lost her sanity.

Disappointment set in. "Oh," she said, and sighed. She had hoped for some declaration of undying love, like he had done for Christine during the production of 'Don Juan Triumphant'. "Do you… do you love me more than Christine?"

Erik blinked, and Meg held her breath. He didn't respond, and horror struck into her heart.

My God, he really did love Christine more. She backed away from him, her world, her world where she had found her perfect match and he cherished her just as much as she cherished him, exploded into microscopic pieces.

"No, Meg," he moaned, reaching for her, like he was being tortured. She avoided his grip, her face showing so much shocked hurt. She stood up and tried to move away. "Meg, please," he begged.

She looked down at him, he was on his knees, and had grabbed a handful of her skirts.

"Get off of me!" Meg said, with no warmth in her voice. Erik didn't let go, so Meg stepped over him, her numerous skirts and petticoats hitting him in the face, and he let go of her subconsciously.

"Meg, come back!" Erik called after her. Meg had already started to pack, shoving things into a very big suitcase, and then filling the trunk once the suitcase was filled.

She carried the suitcase and dragged the trunk into the hall, where Erik was standing, looking absolutely pathetic. She threw the suitcase at him, which he caught, then went up to the stable to go saddle up César.

That was the only thing she was better than Christine. She could saddle up a horse. _What a wonderful talent_, she thought, bitterly. She connected the harnesses on César to the phaeton, and then led the beautiful white horse into the carriage drive.

Meg dragged the trunk out of the hall and pushed it into the storage compartment of the phaeton. She went back to get the suitcase, and one last thing…

"Meg," Erik said, rushing to her, and she grabbed the suitcase out of his hands, and threw it in to the storage compartment as well. She turned around and there was Erik, his hands on her arms, and his yellow eyes were filled with hurt.

"You're still in love with her; after all she's done to you? Then fine, go after her, I won't stop you any more!" She wriggled out of his grasp, and pushed him with all of her might. "It's always Christine, Christine, _Christine_!"

This time she tried to hit him, her fury packing a real punch, but he did not guard himself against her blows. "I'm not going to be second fiddle anymore! I'd rather be nothing to you than be second in you're heart anymore!"

"Meg, you're not second-," Erik began, but Meg grabbed the lapels of his jacket and made him look at her, face to face, their noses almost touching.

"Look at me and tell me you love me best," she yelled. "Tell me!" she shook him, but Erik remained silent. "I knew it," she said, moving past Erik, trying to get back in the house.

"Meg, please, just be sensible."

Meg responded by throwing her wedding ring in the dirt. "Meg!" he yelled, and Meg ran inside the house and locked the door.

Erik pounded on the door. He couldn't believe that he was thrown out of his own house by his own wife, who was pregnant with his own child.

"Meg, open the door," he said, trying to placate her. He could hear her sobs through the door, so she must have been close to the door.

The truth was that he really hadn't thought of who he loved more. When Meg sprang that ridiculous question on him, he was so surprised he didn't think about it properly. He sighed, and picked up Meg's wedding ring from the dirt, and brushed it off.

Well, time to use the secret weapons. He went to the garden and opened up the secret passage…

…where he arrived in the hall, in front of Meg, who was curled up, like how he found her when she was in front of the Opera Populaire. He kneeled in front of her, and Meg looked up at him, and he held out the ring to her.

That something special that he felt, that color spectrum he compared her to… he hadn't felt like this about Christine. Did he really love Christine more than Meg? He didn't know…

Meg looked at him, waiting for him. He made a decision.

"I love you best."

* * *

AU- YAY FOR QUICK UPDATES! 

I really don't have much to say.

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	8. Silence Before the Storm

Chapter VIII- Silence Before the Storm

* * *

_Erik heard the yelling of the crowd below him. "Hang him! Hang him!" The words stung and he would have clutched his heart if his hands weren't tied together at the wrists with rope. He felt rather then saw the rope. He felt rather then saw the chain shackles around his ankles. _

_One very old crone in the front was cackling at him, pointing her knotted walking stick at him and yelling at the child by her side. "This is what you get when you disobey God's law! This is what your punishment is for being wicked!" _

_Erik wasn't wicked. He knew he wasn't… Meg had said time and time again he wasn't, and he believed her. He _wanted_ to believe her. But who could decide who was wicked and evil? No human being, that's for sure. _

"_Up you go!" The executioner said, pushing Erik up the last stairs he would ever climb. The ones up the gallows. Erik saw Meg's face dart towards him through the crowd. He was relieved to see her, but at the same time, he wasn't. He didn't want her to see this. _

_Meg was yelling something, but he couldn't hear over the crowd. She held out her hand, and he held out his two, but the gap was too far. _

_They couldn't reach each other._

_The executioner put the noose around his neck and roughly pushed him onto the platform, the little piece of wood separating him from life and death. "Any last words?" he said, amused._

"_Yes," Erik said. "I'm not sorry."_

_The platform collapsed and Erik felt no more._

Erik yelled and looked around. Where was he? What the hell was that? He breathed in and out, trying to think of where he was. He heard a soft moan and he saw Meg, in his shirt, lying next to him in bed- her head on his shoulder…

He was in his own bed, in his own house.

It was a dream. Oh, thank God.

Was that how he would die?

No, it couldn't be… was it a premonition?

A Premonition on how he was to die… How morbid. He hugged a sleeping Meg close to him. As usual, she calmed him… even when she wasn't conscious, she still calmed him. He would think things over rationally in the morning.

* * *

It was the day for the defense, and Meg was tying his cravat for Erik. His hands were trembling badly, and he simply couldn't have done it without her. He was too tall for her small body- he had to bend down just a bit so that she could reach the back of his neck.

Erik first complained that Meg had tied it too tight, so he ripped the tie apart and they set at it again. The next time was too loose, and Meg snapped that if he was going to complain, he might as well just not have a cravat at all.

Erik, after a few minutes of angry silence from both ends, finally (half heartedly) apologized.

"I'm nervous," he said, after a little bit of probing on Meg's part. She wanted to roll her eyes. Of course he was nervous. So was she. But was she snapping at him? No, she certainly wasn't! Okay, well, maybe a little. But they both knew that they didn't mean it.

Meg asked Erik if he would help button up the back of her dress. It had gone too far up her back for her to do it unaided, and they had dismissed Caressa and Jean Paul for the day (Caressa normally helped Meg get dressed in the morning), so the task fell on Erik's shoulders.

Meg moved her blonde hair away from her neck, so it wouldn't get caught. She could feel Erik's hands move up, securing each button until the dress was secure on its own, then the last button, the one on the back of the throat. He finished buttoning her up, but before she could let go of her hair, he kissed the back of her neck, between the beginning of the dress and her hairline. Meg blushed slightly.

He wrapped his arms around her, pressing Meg against him. He remembered his dream. He couldn't die like that, he couldn't! If he had to die, he would die on his _own_ terms, and nobody else's. If he were convicted, he _would _find away to escape. He had done it before, hadn't he?

Well, the only reason he didn't escape from prison was Meg. If he had gone missing, Meg would have thought he abandoned her. She would have gone back to the Opera Populaire, and the stagehands, the cruel ballet girls, and one manager that managed to elude Erik's wrath. They would all laugh at her, and say that Erik had found another woman, that he had run away with her instead. Meg wouldn't believe it at first, but doubt would plague her, and eventually she would believe.

He couldn't do that. He just couldn't. He would rather take torture than that.

He felt Meg's little hands on top of his, wrapped around her stomach. She murmured something to him, but he wasn't listening much. Erik rested his forehead on the origin of her shoulder.

He would make that dream become just a dream, not anything else. Erik had thought that it had been a prophecy, but he had free will, damn it, and he would use it. Right to the last drop.

* * *

AN- Okay, sorry that it took so long to update... but, thank God, _Peter Pan_ is now over... and I can now concentrate on this baby right here. And... IT WAS GREAT! (for all you people who were wondering how _Peter Pan_ went)

Love you guys.

Review me, do!


	9. And If We're Parted By a Shot

Chapter IX- If We're Parted By A Shot…

* * *

"Sit down and shut up, all of you." The Judge said, banging on the gavel. Meg jumped at the sound, and even the baby objected with a rather painful kick. "I'm too old for this stuff…" the Judge murmured, and motioned for a little boy to come forward.

The boy held up a mirror as the Judge fixed his wig. Once satisfied, the judge waved him away with one hand and started the trial.

The defense attorney- du Claw, Meg remembered, she had met him yesterday- stood up and started to lecture the jury about Erik's side of the story.

The judge banged the gavel again, and du Claw looked like he would love nothing more than to wallop him with that exact gavel. "Enough with that- cross examine the witnesses already!"

Meg looked at her mother, nervously. The judge cut off the introductory statement! He cut it off!

"The defense calls Mrs. Marguerite Giry to the stand!"

Damn it! She didn't want to be called… Meg got up and walked as elegantly as possible (or waddled, as the baby was greatly inflicting her walking ability) to the stand. She sat down, and the dance began.

"Mrs. Giry, you have said many times that all rape allegations have been completely false."

"Yes," Meg said, blushing a bit. She really didn't like talking about… this in front of everyone. Including her MOTHER.

Meg wasn't sure, but she imagined that if her father were alive, he would be shocked. He might have even punched the prosecution attorney, for embarrassing his little ballerina.

She wasn't so little anymore, not with the little ballerina- or chorus boy- inside her.

"And you remain that you're- um- child, is legitimate?"

"Yes,"

"Mrs. Giry, what were Erik's reasons for killing Monsieur Buquet?"

"He was endangering Erik by telling all of his secrets to the Opera House."

"So self defense?"

"That's right." She said, flashing a pretty smile.

"And Monsieurs Piangi and Andre?"

"Monsieur Andre was well know for trying to get Erik killed-," she tried to get out, but Meg was cut off.

"That is a complete fabrication, you stupid b-," Firmin shouted, still dressed in all black, from the back of the room. The courtroom broke into pure chaos.

Everyone, except for a select six, got up and yelled at one another, and one even threw a chair into the wall. "Let the lady finish!" some called, while most just wanted Erik hung straight away.

The six people who remained seated were Erik, Meg, Madame Giry, Christine, Little Jammes, and the Emperor.

Someone grabbed Erik's arm and hauled him over the bar separating him and the mob, into the melee.

Meg screamed and leapt up, but the Emperor stopped her from going into the mob to rescue him. She struggled against him, but to no avail- the Emperor was much stronger then she was- even with the baby's weight added in.

The judge banged on the gavel, but it was barely audible over the clamor. Finally, the bailiff fired a shot into the air.

"You can all act like animals outside of my courtroom!" He yelled, and acted on his animal instincts by throwing the gavel in the middle of the audience's aisle. Everyone grudgingly took their seats, but two very rowdy men were still holding Erik captive in the back row. "Release him, boys." The judge said, obviously annoyed, and pointing a knowing finger at them.

They did, and Erik shoved himself away from them. He smoothed his vest, clearing the dust that the chair in the wall caused to fall, off of him.

Meg and the Emperor returned to their seats when Erik reached the defense bench again, but when the two men's paths crossed, they looked at each other with hate in their eyes.

She could tell what Erik was thinking, it was a "thank you for keeping her out of the mess, but I shall have to kill you if you touch her again"… as for the Emperor, Meg could only wonder. It must have been a "I hate you" look, because Erik's eyes reflected the Emperor's.

Men must have had a secret language all of the genders own.

Questioning began again, but people interviewed were more careful in choosing their answers, lest another brawl broke out again.

Christine was one of these people. When she approached the stand, Meg glanced at Erik. He had looked down at his lap, fiddling with something. Meg couldn't help it- she grinned. Erik wasn't so bewitched in her anymore.

Sure, he might have still loved her, but…

He loved HER the best! Meg! Her!

Ah, it was a wonderful feeling. She just had to smile.

"Meg, darling, pay attention," Madame Giry said, squeezing Meg's hand softly. Oh, Meg HAD tried to pay attention, but she was just so happy. She wanted to dance. However, the baby kicked again. She took this as a sign that she should be more aware, so she tried once again to pay attention…

Oh, but Christine's story was so BORING. Everyone had heard it at least one hundred times already. The Judge yawned and Meg saw that even he was getting tired of it.

After all, the prosecution did base his entire charge on Christine's story. Or, so she heard. Meg stormed out halfway through the prosecution trial, so she never heard the rest of it.

Du Claw and his attorney assistant spent almost two hours going through Christine's story, dissecting bit by bit. At the end of the examination, Christine sounded positively insane.

Oh, this was WONDERFUL! Meg wanted to clap her hands. They couldn't lose now, not with du Claw and his assistant-friend. They were too good.

After they interviewed Firmin, (which Meg dozed off through, the man simply did not have a way with words that could remotely interest anyone) the Emperor, Little Jammes, Little Odette (who fainted twice during cross examination), and Madame Giry, the jury was excused for a verdict.

Everyone rushed outside to stretch his or her legs, but Meg staid inside, with Erik. The bailiff had vouched for him and he was allowed an hour outside of his holding cell to wait for the verdict.

As soon as the last person had left, Meg rushed into Erik's arms. "We'll win! We'll win!" she said, positively giddy. "Erik, Erik, you'll be acquitted!" she kissed all around his face, almost unable to contain her joy.

Erik laughed- actually laughed. And not the cruel laugh that he had done so much lately, but a hearty, thankful one. He lifted her up and twirled her around as best he could in shackles, both of them laughing.

He picked her up, like he was cradling her, one of his hands underneath her knees. He sat down in his seat again, and that was how they stayed until the recess was over.

* * *

"Jury, have you reached a decision?" The judge said, kneading his forehead.

"Yes, we have!" the head of the jury said, standing up.

"What say you," the judge said, half heartedly.

"We find the defendant, Erik…um, Giry…"

* * *

YAY YOU GUYS.

Loving the cliffhangers?

**Happy Phantom of the Opera DVD Release Week**!

Okay, you guys, please, please review… Or I'll cry!

… or I wont update.

Teehee.

Love from Lemony A.


	10. We're Sure to Meet Below

**LITTLE KNOWN FACT**- In the first stages of FWSE (chapter one, then finally abandoned after chapter four), Erik was originally going to die from the Emperor's wounds.

Chapter X-…We're Sure to Meet Below

* * *

"We find the defendant Erik…um… Giry," the jury said, looking at the parchment he was reading and fixing his wiry glasses. "We find him guilty on all accounts!"

Meg's heart dropped, and she sat unresponsive as the audience filed out. A tear slid down her cheek- but she didn't weep. She had wept too much over the months. It was not that kind of sadness… she felt dead.

"Very well… punishment will be hanging, and will be carried out on the third of August. Court is adjourned." The judge banged his gavel in dismissal and got up.

What happened? She was so positive that Erik would be acquitted… what had happened? What had HAPPENED? Her head pounded in her brain and she covered her temples with her hands, trying to connect her thoughts to another.

The bailiff was not unkind. He left Meg and Erik is alone for a few minutes. Erik put his arms around Meg in a powerful hug, and all Meg could do was cling to him.

There were no words spoken yet, just comforts given. He wiped her tears away with his thumb, cradling her face in his hands. It might be the last time they would ever be like this… together, alone….

"No, none of that," he whispered into Meg's hair as another tear slid down her cheek. He wiped it away and kissed the paths her tears had formed, one on each side of her face. "Don't cry, Meg, don't cry…"

She shook her head again, trying to be strong. What happened to her? She seemed to be crying nonstop since the baby.

Erik traced her jawbone with her thumb, and kissed her, softly. He gave her three more of those caring kisses. He got up; ready to surrender himself, but Meg grabbed his sleeve. "No," she said, as two more tears rolled down. Be strong, Meg, be strong. He kneeled down so she was at eye level.

There were no 'I love you's. They both knew they were loved by each other… it was unspoken this time. Finally, Erik, who was so strong, broke down.

He began to cry, and the man and the woman both cried together.

She sat him down in one of the chairs, the one her Mama had sat in, and wrapped his arms around him. He was always so strong- he _pretended_ to be strong… but he really wasn't. He didn't have to be so strong all the time…

His mask, wet from his tears, fell off and clanged loudly on the ground. "Meg," he murmured softly into her shoulder, like her name was a relief.

She pulled away, and this time it was her turn to mop up his tears, to comfort him. Her touch seemed to soothe him. Erik seemed to calm down, but Meg realized just how much he seemed to have bottled up inside.

She kissed all around his face- not hard ones, but soft ones. The kind Erik had once called 'Meg Kisses'.

The Bailiff stepped inside the courtroom again. "I'm very sorry missus, but we have to take him now." He looked like his heart would break, but he remained firm.

Erik slipped back on his mask, turning away from the bailiff. Lesser Policemen took Erik away while Meg sat helpless.

Erik looked back at her. He was saying goodbye. Meg's heart broke one more time.

The bailiff approached Meg slowly. "I'm truly sorry, Missus." He said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I have a wife at home- can't imagine what pain you must feel."

Meg looked up from her seatat him. "If there is any justice in the world left, they'll let him go."

The bailiff sighed and pointed his cane at the door. "Then I'd be suggesting you go talk to that Emperor who's so keen on you."

"He set this whole thing up." Meg said, absolutely furious. "He fixed the whole thing." Meg wanted to throw something, to hurt it just as badly as she was hurt right now. She dug her nails into her fists, and blood came oozing out.

The Bailiff handed her a handkerchief, looking slightly ill. She took it, wiped her eyes, and then wrapped one of her bloody hands.

"Your best shot is talkin' to that Emperor." The bailiff said. "He has a soft spot for you, he'll break down and let him go, and I know that."

Meg looked at the door to the courtroom. Would the Emperor really pardon Erik? Whatever he had done, the Emperor wasn't truly evil… he had to have a heart somewhere….

…Very deep down.

Yes. She would talk to the Emperor, and make him see her way. She stood up and thanked the bailiff, and without another word marched out of the courtroom.

"Good luck, Missus," the bailiff said, quietly. "You are definitely going to need it."

* * *

AN-

-dabs eyes- Aw, man, guys, I really was crying at a part there.

–sigh-

Poor Erik…

I was writing this as I was watching my BRAND NEW PHANTOM OF THE OPERA DVD! So while I was chatting with my friend Michelle, I was also writing Erik's sentence and watching him get dumped by Christine.

Funny, but sometimes Erik seems like a very real person- and that was exactly one of the times. And then I feel all bad because I can't go medieval on him and jump him or something.

But Meg can certainly do it for me. Teehee.

-runs away from spork before Diana can stab her-


	11. The One I Dreamt Of

Chapter XI- The One I Dreamt Of

* * *

If Meg hadn't been pregnant with their little girl- or boy- she would have surely drank herself into an almost deadly stupor. 

In fact, Madame Giry found Meg rooting through the brandy cabinet.

"What do you think you're doing, you stupid girl?" Madame Giry snapped. "You won't get him back by drinking yourself do death." She yanked the decanter away from Meg and shoved it back in the cabinet and locked it. "Now get dressed, or you'll be late for the meeting with the Emperor."

Oh, she really didn't want to see that man. She would really let the Emperor have an earful this time… If he thought he was going to get by without one, he was very much mistaken.

Mama and Caressa helped Meg get ready. Caressa absolutely insisted that she wear her light pink dress, and Madame Giry agreed, so she was shoved into it without another word.

And then, somehow, Meg found herself in the carriage, being driven by Jean-Paul to meet the Emperor.

It was the single longest drive Meg ever had the misfortune to experience. She felt bored looking at the scenery as it passed, and soon her mind wandered. It felt silly to think about… but she missed Erik so much. She missed cuddling with him, missed his music, missed the way he made her feel so beautiful, missed their conversations, everything. Even their little fights.

The house was so empty without him. Eerie and silent. She missed how he banged on the piano like it was a part of his body. She loved him so much.

Meg clutched at her heart, her hand grasping the opening of her dress. When was the last time they had actually been burden free? It must have been before the jury pronounced him guilty. The momentary jubilation that they felt-… it was a relief.

God, she missed him.

_Stop it, Meg. Concentrate, _she thought. _Think about what you're going to say to get him back._

Mama would be so mad if she knew what Meg was thinking about. Meg took a deep breath as Jean-Paul turned a wide turn, and they finally arrived in Paris.

Ah, Paris! The hustle and bustle… she missed it, just a bit.

And just for a moment, she entertained the thought of stopping in at the Opera Populaire. No, that would NOT be a good idea. She would get the interview over and done with, and then return home, to Anjou.

"We're here!" Jean-Paul said, cheerfully and getting off of the carriage. He opened the door for Meg, and held his hand out to help her down. She ignored his hand and stepped out unaided.

"You're coming in, right?" Meg said nervously, looking at Jean-Paul. He shook his head no, and said he would be waiting for her as soon as she finished.

_Be strong!_ Something cried from inside of Meg. She strode into the embassy and was faced with about a hundred secretaries running here and there. She collided with a secretary who happened to be carrying a large stack of papers.

Papers flew everywhere and Meg bent down to help gather them all up again. There was a roar from the office and the Emperor burst through the door, followed by Little Jammes.

Meg thought Little Jammes might have been trying to calm the Emperor down, but she wasn't exactly sure.

"Henri, wait!" She called after him. Little Jammes collided with Meg, and knocked her down again; making all the papers fall out of her arms and go all around the room again. Meg looked up just in time to see Little Jammes sprawled out on the floor from their little collision.

Meg couldn't help it; she giggled, and then burst out laughing.

"What are you sniggering at?" Little Jammes snarled at her. Jammes took a swing at Meg, who leaned back so Jammes fell over again.

"Miss Mariette, that is enough!" The Emperor said, dragging Jammes away from Meg. Jammes fought off the Emperor. Little Jammes pushed the Emperor away and gave him a mean look, before she strutted out of the Embassy Hall.

"What was that all about?" Meg said, as Mariette Jammes shot her another death glare as she walked out of the Hall.

The Emperor said nothing, but led her into the office. There were newspapers on his desk. It was so neat and orderly. There was nothing round in his office, all just sharp angles.

"Sit down." He said, motioning to the extremely exaggerated chair. She sat, and took off her gloves. She was nervous already. That must be a bad sign.

"I understand that you are here to negotiate the release of your husband." He said, not really sounding like himself. Was he acting?

Meg nodded.

"Well, we just happen to have your husband here. And seeing as that this has to do with the both of you, let's just bring him in, why don't we?"

Without waiting for Meg's shocked answer, the Emperor snapped his fingers and the jailors from home dragged Erik into the office.

Erik pushed the jailors away from him and they backed away, perhaps afraid of being hurt by him.

Erik had an enraged look on his face- like he wanted to kill someone or something. Meg had seen that look on his face once before- when he was about to kill the Emperor at the Non-Wedding. It frightened her.

"Erik!" she said, and Erik softened like melted butter. They rushed into each other's arms, both asking how each other was, giving tender kisses, and Erik even asked how the baby was doing.

The Emperor glared at Erik with hate and envy, like he wanted to hurt Erik just as much as Erik wanted to hurt him.

Erik and Meg sat down.

"Now then," The Emperor said, clearing his throat. "Since you are both here," the Emperor smiled, in a very mean sort of way- "I'm considering letting Erik be pardoned-,"

"Oh, Your Eminence!" Meg cried with glee, jumping forward and grabbing one of the Emperor's arms. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"

"He's not finished, Meg," Erik snapped, coldly. "Go on, there's got to be a catch somewhere."

"I will pardon Erik if you marry me." The Emperor finished.

Meg froze, then slowly her joy and jubilation faded, and shocked hurt replaced it. Why? Why had the Emperor betrayed her?

Erik and the Emperor glared at each other, then Erik snarled; "I knew it."

In a fluid motion, Erik grabbed the decanter of brandy the Emperor had laying on his desk and smashed it down on the side of the desk. He picked up a long sharp shard of the crystal and ran at the Emperor, pressing the crystal glass next to where Meg felt quite sure his jugular vein was.

"You bastard," Erik spat. "You vicious bastard. You've been planning this from the start."

"Erik! Don't, please!" Meg said, pulling on Erik's arm. "If you hurt him, we've lost our chance!"

"Get away, Meg!"Erik snarled and pushed her away from the two.

"Violent, are we?" The Emperor said with detached amusement. "Don't you think Meg would want someone a little more… stable? Maybe even sane?"

Erik growled like a wild animal and pressed the shard of crystal closer to the Emperor's skin, nicking it, just a tad.

"Erik," Meg said softly and calmly. "Put it down." She ran her hands up and down his shoulders and arms, trying desperately to calm him down. "If you hurt him, our future is ruined!"

"It's ruined either way, Meg! What's one more murder when I'm going to die at his hands anyway?"

"Erik, please!"

"WHY?" He yelled.

"Go ahead, Erik. Kill me. You'll just be killing your last prayer." The Emperor's voice seemed to make Erik even madder. He dug the crystal even more into his neck.

"I'm so sick of you," Erik growled, not even sounding like himself anymore. "I'm sick of you hurting us, and I won't let you do it ever again!"

"Erik, if you won't do it for me, do it for the baby!" Meg cried. "I want her- or him- to know who their father is."

The Emperor's blood ran down the glass and Erik snorted, then threw it down on the desk.

"If Meg hadn't begged me not to, you'd be gutted like a fish." Erik turned to face Meg.

God, she looked so weary and tired… "I'm sorry, Meg. I don't deserve you."

She smiled and said that of course he did, but Meg was thinking.

Would the Emperor REALLY let Erik go if she agreed to marry him? Oh, her heart was torn.

"Will you really let Erik go?" Meg said, looking at the Emperor. He smiled and nodded. Erik looked shocked.

"You're not doing it, Meg." Erik said.

"Yes, but if you get off, Erik-,"

"No, he said, "I'm not letting you."

"And I'm not letting you die!" She said, grabbing his arms and trying to shake some sense into him. "I'd rather be married to _him_ then let you die!"

He pushed her away and went to the other side of the desk, looking out the window and facing away from his wife.

"And is this how we end? When a better offer came along?"

"I'm not rejecting you, Erik!" she yelled. "I love you, and I'm willing to choose a lifetime of unhappiness so that you can be safe!"

"'Til death do us part', Meg! You swore!" He yelled right back at her. "Do you remember what you swore to me? Our vows?"

"Of course I remember," She said, quietly. "I'm trying to save you, Erik. It's the only way."

"No it isn't," Erik snapped for some reason. Upset, Meg sat down on one of the chairs and looked away from Erik.

He sighed as he saw her defeated figure, and horrible guilt raged inside him.

"Listen to your wife, Erik. She's obviously the only thing you've got worth having." The Emperor snarled. Erik turned around, his hands clenched into fists.

Meg gathered his hands into hers, and he looked into her pretty face. "I'm trying to protect you." She said, in a little whisper. "Let me protect you."

"You're mine, Meg." He said. "I'll never let you go- never. And I'll be damned if I see that Fop take you away from me." Their fingers intertwined. "I almost lost you once to him. I won't let him take you away."

The Emperor stood up, and Meg glared at him, daring him to say anything.

"Not you, Meg." he murmured. "Anything but you. I'd rather die than see you with anyone other than me."

"Time to choose!" the Emperor cried. Meg opened her mouth, going to say something to the Emperor, but she wasn't exactly sure what she was going to say.

"Yes, we've chosen." Erik growled at him. "Go to hell!"

* * *

**AN-**

Yay Erik! Okay, well… Yeah. I don't think I have much to say!

THANK YOU to ChristineErikMatchMadeInHell, who was my 100th reviewer! Thank you very, very much!

And thank you for the 100 Reviews! Please keep them coming!


	12. Once Upon A Dream

Chapter XII- Once Upon A Dream

* * *

Meg roamed through the streets of Paris for a while after the meeting with the Emperor. 

She had walked these streets with the Emperor once. It had been before she realized with Erik.

Meg smiled as she realized she only agreed to go walking with the Emperor to make Erik jealous.

Speaking of Erik… did he really think that she betrayed him? Oh, she hoped not. She didn't mean to. She was trying to protect him!

After Erik had told the Emperor exactly where to go, he was whisked away before Meg could even say goodbye.

And no matter how much begging she did, the matter of approval of house arrest by the Emperor was simply out of the question…

Maybe she could ask that nice bailiff to help her. Or the judge. But did they really have more authority over the matter than the Emperor? She really wasn't too optimistic.

To her right was the most beautiful jewelry store. Meg peered over the shoulders of two couples crowding the windows and looked in. She saw the most beautiful pearl necklace she had ever seen in her life… _Oh_, Meg loved pearls. Absolutely loved them.

And with a look at her own engagement ring, she began to miss Erik all over again.

Oh, it had only been a few hours since the meeting at the Embassy! She was an absolute mess.. She kissed the pearl on her ring.

If this was how her grief was after he was imprisoned… oh, how she would miss him after he was gone!

No, no… she mustn't think about it or she would start crying again, and the last thing she wanted to do was cry. She had cried so much over the space of… well, her pregnancy. Because that was just about where it had started. And when Meg started to cry, the whole house went into absolute hysterics.

_Oh Erik!_

Unable to hold in her grief any longer, Meg started to cry silently into her hands.

"Mademoiselle," Jean-Paul's voice called from behind her. She turned, but still covered her face in her hands. Undoubtedly her makeup had run down her face and she looked like a raccoon.

"Come," he said, ushering her into the carriage and closing the door behind her. "Let's get out of this place."

* * *

When they arrived home, Madame Giry and Caressa were very disappointed to find Meg had not returned in triumph, and the execution date still stood. 

Madame Giry hugged her daughter and tried to comfort her, and Caressa had rattled on about how unfeeling could be at the plight of a woman. In the middle of her rant (in which Meg pretended to pay rapt attention to, nodding and saying "Yes, exactly!" at times when Caressa paused to breathe), Caressa fixed Meg a hot cup of chamomile tea.

Meg drank it all and retired to the master bedroom, suddenly feeling very run down and tired. She locked it behind her- a sure sign that she wasn't coming out any time soon.

In fact, it was about four days when she emerged with a letter for Erik.

Jean-Paul and Caressa sighed.

"Don't expect a reply, darling." Jean-Paul said, gently patting her on the shoulder.

It took a month to get a reply from Erik, and when it came, it was strictly bare bones. Almost _three_ lines.

Meg locked herself in the room again. Madame Giry, sick of Meg's foolishness, barged into the room.

She found her daughter in bed. "Meg, you can visit Erik whenever you like!" She snapped at her, who was curled up under the piles of blankets and still in her nightgown even though it was well past noon.

Madame Giry almost dragged her daughter out of bed and called Caressa in, and once again Meg set out on a voyage she didn't want to do.

She hated going to see him in the prison… it was so dark and gloomy, she couldn't see Erik properly because there was almost no light at all, she was almost sexually assaulted every time she went in there, and Erik was almost routinely put through torture.

Well, actually, all the more reason to go. Hopefully she would put Erik out of his misery for a few minutes. So she gathered her courage and went to go visit Erik at the hell-hole prison.

She pleaded with the guards to let her talk to her husband, but they insisted on escorting her through the prison. No one dared to yell out at her, make lewd comments, or whistle as she walked by.

Meg spotted Erik in his cell and ran forward, calling his name. Erik was so pale he was not exactly very noticeable from the white stones. He looked up at Meg with extremely dull, yellow eyes, and Meg became concerned.

After a lot of tearful begging, the guards finally let Meg enter Erik's cell. He tried to turn away from her, to not let her see him like this. He coughed and looked terribly sick.

"Will you fetch water and a cloth for me? Please?" Meg asked the guards, sweetly. Maybe they felt guilty on how they were treating the poor fellow, or perhaps they were just sick of all the tears, but whatever the reason was, Meg was allowed to nurse poor Erik back to health.

Erik looked like he had given up all hope, like he had surrendered himself completely- willingly- to death. His eyes were open, but Meg wasn't sure Erik could actually see her there, right in front of him.

She laid him down so that his head was in her lap, removed his mask, and began to dab at his face, gently. His face was so dirty, and Meg knew it must have been some sort of a relief to get all of it off… she wondered if the scars on his back had been properly cleaned. Probably not.

She did all she could for him, but in the end all she could do was hold his hand, murmur encouraging words, and glare at the policemen as they tried to collect her from Erik's cell.

She stayed there all night, trying to nurse him back to health and cleaning all of the various cuts he had accumulated so they would not become infected. She fell asleep with Erik's head still on her lap.

* * *

Ohh… Erik felt so… so… sluggish. Oh, God, what had happened last night? Well, he had another nightmare about… _it_, and he couldn't sleep the night. He was coughing so violently, and his body had succumbed to stress- he had become ill. 

…Which was absolutely _laughable_. Erik was _never_ ill. He tried to get up, but his body felt so heavy and he could barely move.

Well, time to admit defeat, he was indeed sick. He closed and reopened his eyes again, and looked up. A face was above him, leaning down and sleeping. It was a woman! He jolted and his head fell off of her lap and hit the cold floor painfully.

What had happened last night? What had happened? He thought, panicking.

With a start, he recognized her- it was Meg. He exhaled with relief, and smiled, somewhat ruefully. Had this been a joke? That he was hated so much that they had to bring his wife in, to humiliate him even more? That Meg could see just how much Erik had fallen since he was arrested?

Erik sat up and looked at Meg. She had a sad little smile on her face… She had slept here, with him. Through all the night…

…With him. She risked her life so she could stay with him. Erik wanted to hit something and kiss her at the same time. He wanted to yell, to hurt something because of her foolish decision. But at the same time… well, he didn't know. All he knew was that Meg was in danger. …And that he had an earsplitting headache.

He shook Meg, and her head rocked backwards and forwards, that was, until she woke up. Alarmed, she looked around. She forgot where she was. She smiled happily when she saw Erik.

"You need to get out of here." He growled. "You never should have stayed the night. It's entirely too dangerous."

"I'm not afraid," Meg said, her happiness about his recovery slipping away and annoyance soon replacing it. "Erik, you looked so miserable last night, I just couldn't leave you alone-,"

"Meg, I'm about to be executed in less than a month. I need to know that you and the baby are safe." He said, dragging his hands through his hair. He was frantic. "You have to leave."

Erik roughly pushed Meg out of the cell and slammed the cell door closed. Their eyes met through the bars, and Meg couldn't help feeling rejected.

As she was led away by the two very tired prison guards, she looked over her shoulder at Erik's cell, which quickly became smaller and smaller with each step she took. She watched Erik move to the corner of the cell where he could see her retreating back walk to the front desk of the prison.

As she faced forward, she couldn't remember a time when she felt so desolate at that very moment. Not even when she was about to get married to the Emperor.

Maybe if she played her cards right she could maybe get the Bailiff to agree to house arrest…

The Bailiff escorted her out, with linked arms and the whole stiff manners that was her life before she moved to Anjou started into motion. Delicately, she brought up the subject of house arrest.

* * *

ARRRGH!

It's 12:47 AM! This was such a hard chapter to write… I wrote this on three episodes of _Family Guy, _one _Quantum Leap_, and _Summer Stock_ (which is actually pretty good. I –heart- Judy Garland.)

Okay, so we're winding down on YAMOO! I'm kind of kicking around the idea of a reincarnation story… I don't know, though. It would have to take a lot of plot developing, not to mention research…

Hey, did I ever tell you guys that I never read Susan Kay's _Phantom_? Is it out of print? Maybe I can get it at the library… I keep bouncing back and forth about reading it.

_-the curtain opens to reveal a murder mystery. The Emperor has been sporked! Who could have done this horrible crime?_ Policemen One, Two and Eight _are investigating-_

**Lemony**: (_aside to DianaLupin_)… You better hide that murder weapon.


	13. Nightmares

Chapter XIII- Nightmares

* * *

"Why, of course I'll let your husband be put under house arrest," the bailiff said. "Mrs. Giry, I can barely imagine the pain you must be going through." He said, patting her hand sympathetically.

"Erik is a good man, sir. Everyone just seems to forget it…" Finally Meg grasped what the bailiff was saying. "Oh, monsieur! Are you serious? Can Erik really be…?

He nodded, and Meg clapped her hands and jumped up and down. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

The bailiff smiled sympathetically and went back inside the jail house. A few minutes of Meg shuffling her feet, and wondering if she should just leave and come back tomorrow passed, and shefelt very foolish.

Finally, Erik came out in shackles and handcuffs. He still looked exhausted. When he saw Meg, he hurried to her as fast as the shackles would allow him to.

Meg met him half way there. He would have hugged and kissed her- Meg felt quite certain of that- but the handcuffs stopped him from putting his arms around her.

...Or maybe, somehow, he _did_ reject her? She had to know… She slid her hands up his chest and shoulders, and the around his neck.

She pressed her lips against his. Erik's chains rattled as he tried to put his arms around her waist. He kissed her right back, putting his hands around her neck rather than her waist.

His kiss was warm and exciting; and very, very accepting. Meg knew he hadn't rejected her. "Erik," she said, extremely happily. "You're coming with me." She smiled at the bailiff so thankfully. Erik blinked, surprised.

There was just enough time to take off Erik's bonds beforehe took her into his arms. For real, that time.

With one last thank you to the bailiff, Meg quite literally pulled Erik into the carriage.

* * *

They were more than halfway home when Erik started to cough uncontrollably. Meg tried to calm him down, but all she could do was just hold him close until his body relaxed and murmur the occasional encouraging phrase.

Erik tried to catch his breath, and pulled Meg close. She snuggled close to him, putting her head against his shoulder, and her arm over his stomach.

* * *

_Erik was up on the gallows again. This time Meg was no where to be seen. His heart ached. He wanted to see her. For the last time. _

_He didn't want her to come at first, but he had decided in his final moments, he wanted to see her. He just wished she didn't have to see _this

_Meg pushed through the crowd and started yelling something again, but he still couldn't hear her. They held out their hands to each other, but they still couldn't reach._

_He was again shoved up the stairs and the noose was again slipped around his neck and tightened. He was again asked for his last words._

"_I'm not sorry!" He said, and he was just about touse his life line- that was, until the platform opened sooner than he expected, and he plummeted down. _

_He watched from a different place as Meg ran to him, weeping hysterically, and flinging herself down next to him. She gathered him in her arms, still crying._

_It looked like that statue Erik had seen once. What was it called again? The Pieta._

_Meg brought Erik's…body closer to her, burying his head in his chest, and cried harder. Madame Giry tried to gently pull her from the body, but Meg refused to move. She waved her mother away and stayed with Erik._

_That was, until the guards roughly pulled her away. It took many tries to get Meg into the carriage, but she finally did and they drove away. He could see her face look back at him, agony in every feature. _

_The next thing Erik saw was Meg screaming in pain. Her face was red and she clutched the sheets of the bed, trying to get something to hold on to. His jaw dropped as he saw the baby was being born- a month early. He heard another scream of grief from Meg unlike he had ever heard before as Caressa sadly announced that the baby was stillborn. …And that it had been a girl._

_He covered his ears, not wanting to hear her shrieks of grief anymore. He shook his head no, and then started to murmur it, over and over, growing a little louder each time until he was yelling it at the top of his lungs. His yells and her cries intertwined and the din was unbearable.

* * *

_

Meg woke up to hear Erik screaming. He was thrashing about wildly and screaming his head off. Meg tried to wake him up, but he slapped her hands away and screamed louder.

"Erik, Erik, what is it?" She said, Jean-Paul and Caressa rushed in, looking disheveled, alarmed, and very, very sleepy. Soon the whole household was around Erik, holding him down. Meg slapped his face gently, trying her best to wake him up.

She said his name over and over, and finally Erik awoke. He breathed in and out slowly, trying to reassess the situation. He saw Meg, above him, leaning over him.

"Are you alright?" She said, scared. He grabbed her and hugged her powerfully. Caressa and Jean-Paul scurried out, quickly.

As soon as the door was closed, Erik started to weep, pressing her against him, wanting her to be even closer than she was. "Erik, what is it?" She said, scared. "What is it? Tell me! _Tell me_!"

But he never did tell her. They stayed like that all night, Erik crying like that, and Meg wondering just what Erik was bottling up inside of him.

Meg couldn't remember the last time that Erik had a full night's rest. It had started when she brought him home- he couldn't sleep, and he got up and wandered around the house until Meg forced him to come back to bed.

He had done this every night. And just last night, he got up again and wandered around the house until he remembered his piano. He sat composing as softly as he could until five in the morning. Meg had watched him. He looked so at peace that it seemed a crime to tear him away.

Finally Meg understood just why the organ was called an organ. Even though they didn't have one- couldn't afford one at all- the piano was part of him. Like he couldn't possibly live without it. It was a part of his body, like the heart that was beating inside of him.

Once he had finished composing he wrote a title up on the top. _Momento Mori. _Meg presented herself in the doorway at that time. He looked guilty at waking her, and it took a lot of placating to get him to return to his bed.

…Only for him to awake yet again a few hours later, and wander the house aimlessly for the second time that night.

There, seeing her husband weep into her arms so passionately, she couldn't help but wonder; what was happening to her husband?

* * *

"Henri," Mariette Jammes said, to the Emperor. He was looking out the window and was not himself at all. He was standing with his arms behind his back and glaring out at the streets of Paris below him. "Henri, I know you're upset, but…"

The Emperor glared at Little Jammes, no warmth in his eyes at all. "I am not upset. I am tormented, Madame." He turned back to the window, and spat out the rest of his words. "My conscience has is tearing me to shreds- I know that the dearest, sweetest lady in the world is weeping because of the pain I brought her."

"Henri, I'm sorry the plan didn't work, but we still have time to reform it!" She said, desperately. She felt something like she had never really felt before. Pity? She wasn't sure.

"I'm done," He said. "I'm disgusted with myself." He turned to look over his shoulder at the girl behind him. "Go…away." He snarled. "_GO AWAY_!" He began to beat his fists against the glass.

Mariette could do nothing. She ran away from the Emperor.

She left the room to find even more unrest in her heart. Meg would pay. She would PAY. She would pay for finding the man she loved, and having him love her in return. And she would make sure that the Emperor would have the revenge he deserved as well.

_Be alone, Meg._ Mariette thought. _Be so alone you could die from it. _

* * *

Okay, How'd ya'll like it?

Sorry I haven't updated in a while... this chapter was insanely hard to write as well.

But never fear, the next chapter is going to be a lot easier!

Guess what? I'm reading _Phantom!_ IT'S SO GOOD! Why did they make this be out of print? Evil, evil printers and their evil evil ways... I just got it yesterday and already I'm on page 453. I just can't put it down!

R

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	14. Life and Death

Chapter XIV- Life and Death

* * *

Meg stared at the ceiling. How long had she been confined in this room? A week already? It felt like a month. She was trapped, as sure as they had shut her inside a barred cage. The rules were quite clear- no leaving the room when a child is about to be born. 

It was still quite a ways away, but Mama had insisted Meg be locked away much sooner. Confined to her room. Mama had said that stress from the upcoming execution might cause an early labor.

Meg felt fine. Depressed beyond all reason, yes, but otherwise fine. There were so many things that she had wanted to do with Erik before… well…. Before she was confined.

Those stupid etiquette rules. They drove her _mad._ She wanted to be outside… with Erik. Yes, he came to visit her in her cage often, but he had to leave to do things- exercise César, go get some food for the both of them, go compose. She didn't blame him at all for leaving her. Who wanted to be shut up in a cage?

And poor Meg was left staring at the ceiling in despair until someone decided to peek in on her.

This was what she was doing now. Waiting for someone to decide to come in and see her. She felt… annoyed. But, apparently, one will have to sacrifice for one's children. Even if they were not born yet.

Mama wasn't even willing to let Meg go to the execution… it was the end of July and August was coming up soon. If Mama had thought that Meg would just be obedient and stay in her room while her husband was being put to death- well, she definitely had another thing coming.

This was going to be a very, very, _very_ trying two months.

* * *

Both husband and wife did not sleep the night of August Second. They were stunned- nothing to say to each other that could possibly come close to what they were feeling. 

Meg felt like the bed was a coffin- the two of them just laying there and not moving or making any sound at all.

Oh, God, she wanted to _die_! She was so tired, so weary. She had learned to love God as a child, but God just didn't seem to love her at all.

_Oh, Erik, I'm so sorry. I've failed you. _She found herself thinking, miserably. _I'm not strong. I didn't protect you._ She turned her head to face Erik. He was facing back at her. Not really seeing her again. He had been doing that more and more lately- being lost in his own dreamland.

"I'm so sorry. God, I'm so sorry, Erik. Useless, useless!" She murmured, putting her hands over her eyes and shaking her head no, back and forth, back and forth. Nobody heard her apology.

Meg wanted to scream, to hurt herself. She was disgusted- absolutely disgusted- with herself. She hated herself so fully at that moment and jealousy that she thought had gone away- _jealousy of Christine-_ resurfaced. Meg got up and started to pace around the room. Delirium seized her and she grabbed scissors from the desk and placed them over her right wrist.

_If you have any courage, _something told her. Somewhere in the back of her mind. _You'll put an end to it all. _

No.

_Coward._ The voice said again.

No, she wasn't a coward. And she wouldn't do it. She wouldn't take the easy way out. She gripped the scissors, ready to put them back on the desk… that was until Erik yelled and grabbed them roughly away from her.

"What the hell were you doing?" He yelled at her. He held the wrist- the one she had wanted to cut- in his hand, roughly. Painfully. He shoved the scissors back into the desk drawer and locked it. "Don't you ever- _ever_- try to do that again!"

He was furious. He yelled at her, screamed, shook her.

"I wasn't going to," she said, meekly. "I was putting it back."

Erik growled in agonizing fury, and Meg wanted to drive back into bed and below the safety of the covers. He released her, throwing her hand back down onto the desk. He held it down so her forearm was facing up, and rolled up one of his sleeves. He placed it next to Meg's for comparison.

There were long scars on his forearms, jagged, ugly. "Look at this." He said, raging. "Look, God damn you."

She closed her eyes. She didn't want to see. She could take Erik's unmasked face, his real self- but the knowledge that he had harmed himself- unbearable.

"Don't you ever- _ever-_ do this to yourself." He said, dropping her wrist down. Meg cradled her arm, feeling pain. She was quite sure he had left a bruise on her arm.

Erik moved away from her, facing the window, shocked. She was his anchor. And she was slipping away. She slipped her arms around him, and he didn't move in a refusing way or an admitting way. He just stood there.

She buried her head in his shoulder. "Erik," She said, sadly. "I'm sorry." That was when he placed his hands over hers, accepting her apology. He must have known it was heartfelt.

Caressa's knock came much too soon. It was at five o'clock, sharp. "Master, Mistress," She said, sadly. "It's time to get ready."

Meg's eyes opened and closed, and she soon found herself lying flat on the window seat. She had fallen asleep there. Erik was asleep as well, (or at least he pretended to be) his head resting on her chest. She didn't want to wake up. She didn't want him to wake up.

He was peaceful, and alive. _Oh, Erik,_ she thought. _I wish I could protect you._ But she couldn't. She had failed.

She had failed him, herself, and their baby.

"Mrs. Giry?" Caressa said, sadly.

"We're coming," Meg said, finding her voice. She heard Caressa's footsteps fading away.

"Erik," She said, sweetly. "Erik," again, this time shaking him slightly, and caressing his face lovingly. After today she could only do that in her dreams. "Wake up,"

He moaned slightly, and his eyes flickered open. _Oh, don't cry_. Meg thought, furiously with herself. If there was anything Erik needed right now, it was strength.

She smiled, weakly. "Time to get up."

Erik obeyed, not saying a word. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, to absorb him so nothing could hurt Erik anymore. He would be safe inside of her, just like the baby.

He grudgingly began to dress, and Meg followed his example. She picked out the gown Erik had liked best (ironically, it was black) and slipped it on.

He watched her. He asked her to leave her hair down. He loved her hair down. He helped her button the dress. He rubbed her shoulders, from behind her. She wanted to remember the way he made her feel forever, so she closed her eyes and leaned her head on his shoulder, guiding his hands all over her body.

It would be the last time. "I love you," She whispered, and he lowered his head to capture every sound she made. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," He said, kissing her jawbone. "My angel_…_" he whispered.

Caressa came in, saying that the police had come to take Erik away. For the first time, Meg thought she might have seen tears in Caressa's eyes. She felt a rushing surge of gratitude for that woman.

Erik's arms retracted around her waist and Meg almost cried. Erik walked to the door, and Meg cried out, rushing towards him. She hugged him again, and he let her, hugging her back and kissing the top of her head many times, before he gently disentangled their bodies and opened the door.

The policemen were kind and did not handcuff him. He was just led to the carriage, and Meg followed him out to the carriage drive, and stood stupidly, looking at the carriage drive away- at him- like a stupid rag doll.

She saw him turn back to look at her, as he and the policemen drove away.

* * *

At precisely seven in the morning, the household left for the gallows in various stages of doom and despair. But none so depressed as Erik's little wife, Meg. 

She arrived to the gallows, and the much of the crowd parted for her, whispering about her unfortunate circumstances, and _wasn't she a bit far along to be gallivanting around Anjou? Eight months pregnant and all… _

Even the baby protested these words. It rolled and kicked painfully, unhappy.

She got to about halfway through the crowd when Erik was brought out. He was tied at the hands and feet by rope. Meg began to fight to the front, desperate. "Erik!" She screamed. "Erik! Erik!"

She roughly pushed people out of the way, and even accidentally shoved a very old crone down to the ground (though she helped her up anyway) and the little boy at her side watched Erik hypnotically.

"Erik!" She screamed, and held out her hand, trying desperately to touch him. He held out his two bound hands, but they just couldn't reach each other. "Don't let them do this! Don't let them kill you!" She screamed.

Erik couldn't hear her, and she screamed it louder and louder. The executioner pushed him up the stairs and slipped the noose around his neck.

Meg was weeping hysterically. She would catch his body when he fell. He would not leave this earth without love.

"Any last words?" the Executioner said, gruffly, his hand fingering the lever.

"Yes… I'm not-," Erik began, fingering something in his hand.

"STOP!" A shout echoed through the crowd and everyone looked to see who had cried out. The Emperor strode through the crowd, pushing people away and going up to the gallows.

Meg held her breath as the Emperor pulled the noose off of Erik roughly and pushed him away from the platform.

_Oh… my… God…_

"You're free. I pardon you." The Emperor said, looking like a mess. His voice was shaky and he was torn apart by guilt. "Get… out." He snarled, and cut the ropes around his wrists.

Erik stared at him, and Meg let out a cry, and ran up the stairs and straight into Erik's arms. They kissed each other frantically, moving their hands up and down each other's body. Like they were trying to make sure each other was real, and not a dream.

The crowd grumbled and moved away from the execution site- extremely unhappy at not seeing someone die.

The Emperor watched all of this, sad and depressed. He slowly descended down the stairs and joined Little Jammes. Theywere about to get into his phaeton when Meg ran up behind him.

"Henri, wait." She said. He turned, pain and self-sacrifice all over his face.

She had no words to thank him. They were not expressive enough. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed both his cheeks. "Thank you," She said.

The Emperor started to weep. "Forgive me." He closed the door of the phaeton and they drove off.

Meg watched him drive off, and then ran to Erik (who had happily abandoned the gallows platform for the ground), trying to make sure that she wasn't dreaming at all.

A heavy cloud lifted as Erik lifted her and swung her around- her feet never touching the ground.

He set her down and started to kiss her again, relief in every feature of both of them. That was until Meg backed away, alarmed.

"What is it?" He said, still giddy.

"I… I think my water just broke." She said, loudly and frightened. Madame Giry, Caressa, and Jean-Paul hurried and took her to the carriage. She cried out desperately for Erik, who was right behind her, feeling lost.

* * *

**AN**- YAY!

This was so much fun to write!

Ah… I feel so happy. And it's only like, ten minutes before my carpool comes for school…

Review Response time!

**MadamoiselleJustica**: Awwww! Thank you so much! That is so sweet- Oh, you totally made my day.

**Diana-Lupin- **Aww, thank you! LOL! You know what that reminds me of? That part of Aladdin where Iago mimics Jafar and goes "On a scale of One to ten, _you _are an_ eleven._" LOL! I love that movie...

And everyone else (to which I will write a personal thank you to next chapter-I am _so_ tired…)

Thank you for your reviews! 3

**Phantom Update!**

I have now finished _Phantom_! IT WAS SOOOO GOOD!

Unfortunately, the ending kind of creeped the heck out of me… did anyone else get creeped out? Or was it just me?

R

E

V

I

E

W

…

Or I'll write a review song. Grrr.


	15. Agony

Chapter XV- Agony

* * *

"Oh, God, no!" Meg yelled, in the carriage as they barreled down the road. Another contraction rippled through her, and Meg tried her best not to scream. "Mama, Mama, it's too early! It's too early!" 

She gripped Erik and Madame Giry's hands and squeezed, needing something to anchor her.

Madame Giry quietly slipped off Meg's rings and handed them to Erik. He pocketed them, and rubbed Meg's hand supportively.

Meg's body relaxed and she cried out in relief. Madame Giry took charge. "Time the space of the contractions," She growled to Erik, who speedily took out his pocket watch.

Madame Giry leaned out the window of the carriage and yelled at Jean-Paul and Caressa to drive faster, for God's sake!

When they finally got home, the contractions were about five minute apart, and each bump in the road caused Meg extreme agony.

Caressa and Madame Giry somehow managed to get Meg up the stairs and into the bedroom, Erik following behind helplessly, ready to catch Meg if she fell.

They laid Meg down on the bed, then Caressa shooed Erik out of the room.

"No men allowed!" She explained, her head peeking out from the doorframe. "If we need anything, we'll ask."

And with that, the door was closed in Erik's face. He felt angry. Damn it, if he wanted to come in, he should be able to come in!

Jean-Paul ran up the stairs, and looked around, hay still clinging to hisvest after putting César away.

Erik shoved his hands in his pockets, grumbling. …And worrying. Like a normal soon-to-be father. Jean-Paul patted him on the shoulder, and then sat down on the floor, across from the door.

Erik soon followed his example. They strained to hear anything, but no baby cries. Not yet.

* * *

It was about noon when Erik started to feel nervous. Did it always take this long? 

Oh, God, what if the baby was stillborn?

He buried his face in his hands, and this time there was no Meg to comfort him.

The door opened, and both men jumped to their feet and rushed to the door. "Calm down, we just need more ice," Caressa said, handing the cup to Jean-Paul, who started the heroic venture to the ice box.

"She's doing fine." Caressa said, correctly interpreting his silence. "It's just taking a little while longer." She smiled as Jean-Paul returned with the ice. "…Shouldn't be too long now." She said, taking the ice and closing the door with a smile and a snap.

Jean-Paul slid back down to his original spot, sitting against the wall, across from the door. Erik, again, joined him on the floor. The butler drew out a rather large piece of wood and a pocket knife from his overcoat, and handed it to the master of the house.

Erik glared at him. "Something to keep your hands busy." Jean-Paul said, innocently. They both sighed, and Erik took the wood and tool and began to carve.

It was seven o'clock when Erik had carved most of César's head and neck out of the wood. He had decided that he would carve him rearing.

Maybe the baby would like it. Maybe it would think it was a toy, or something.

The cries from the next room finally stopped, and Erik dropped the knife, and they both rushed to the door, pressing their ears to it, listening.

And that was when they heard the baby's cries. Erik breathed a sigh of relief, and Jean-Paul patted him on the back wildly, telling him "Congratulations, congratulations, congratulations!" over and over.

Erik grinned like a fool, and the door opened. Caressa stood there, beaming. "Well, Erik, you escaped death and got a beautiful daughter in the same day."

That was when she handed Erik's mewling daughter. _Caressa gently laid the baby into Erik's arms…. _

His mouth opened in surprise… delighted surprise?

_He was a father! He was a father! _

Erik moved the blanket so he could see her face. He sighed with relief- she wasn't ugly. She was beautiful.

My God, she was beautiful! She had a full head of hair. Curly hair. Dark hair. His hair. She had beautiful eyes. Blue eyes- but he could just tell they were going to be green. Meg's eyes.

_This was his child. This was his daughter._

Love burst out from every part of his body. Erik smiled at Caressa, and then glided- as if on cloud nine- to Meg.

She looked exhausted. Her eyes opened and closed, slowly. "Is… is she alright?" She said, just as slowly as her eyelids opened and closed.

Erik nodded. She was unable to say anything. She smiled.

"What should we call her?" She said; content. "Charlotte?"

"Christine?" Meg scrunched up her nose. She didn't want that name at all.

"Elissa," he said, looking down at his daughter, remembering the note he once wrote to the managers, recommending Meg.

…_the newest Elissa in 'Hannibal'…_

"Elissa," she nodded in agreement. Erik slid onto the bed, next to his wife.

He had never seen that look on her face before. She was looking up at him with pure love and devotion. She said once that he looked at her in the same way, but he didn't actually believe it…

He loved how she was looking at him, right at that moment. It made him feel loved.

He leaned down and kissed Meg, never feeling so happy at that moment in his whole life.

* * *

**A/N-** :Wipes eyes:

I'm sorry if Erik was OOC in this chapter… but I am of the opinion (after reading _Phantom_) that Erik likes children. Well… at least, his children.

Okay, if anyone wants to chat _Phantom _with me, please IM me at XxoCindyrellaoxX, because some of the people who have read this story have not read _Phantom_, so I don't want to give away the ending.

I'll see you guys at the ending…

:Sigh:

It's the end of a saga!


	16. Epilogue

**September 3, 2005 Update- **Well, in ordinance with my birthday, I decided to do a little extended ending to my baby. So, here it is. And if your lucky, I might just add little tidbits of new information all OVER the story! Like… DVD extra features!

**Question- **Which story did you guys enjoy more? FWSE or YAMOO? Please let me know!

I would also like to thank all of you guys that ever reviewed. Thank you so much. There are too many to name, but thank you, thank you, thank you. You have made writing YAMOO and FWSE the best experiance I've ever had. Thank you.

**If you liked YAMOO, you will also like TWO SOULS- A Meg/Erik reincarnation story!**

You Are My Only One

Epilogue

* * *

Meg opened the paper on May 3, 1889, to find a wedding announcement. _The Emperor Henri today weds Mariette Jammes. Will this fiancé also flee at the Alter for a masked man?_

Meg laughed so hard, Erik and the servants burst in the room, thinking that she had a stroke. She handed the paper to Erik, and he sat down on the couch, and grinned.

* * *

Elissa grew to be an absolute beauty. At the time she was four, a boy offered her her first proposal of marriage. Erik turned white when he first heard of this little girl being proposed to, and it took Meg a little while to calm him down, and to talk him out of teaching that little boy a lesson.

When Elissa was five, they found that they had used almost all of Erik's savings. After some heated discussion, Erik started working as an architect, building beautiful churches, steeples, bridges, and monuments. Meg worried about him constantly. Would anyone bully him?

After Erik came home from work every day, little Elissa rushed into his arms, yelling "Daddy! Daddy!" and he would pick her up and twirl her around and kiss his little daughter.

Meg would hide behind the kitchen doorframe, watching her daughter and husband greet one another before she presented herself. It warmed her heart. "Welcome home, Erik," she would always say, and give him three kisses- one on each cheek and then on the lips.

The house fell into a very pleasing regime. However, that regime was punctuated at Elissa's sixth year- when Meg again announced to Erik and the servants (and Elissa, but at a different time and in a different way) that she was again expecting.

The news was taken with delight, and soon all anyone was talking about was the baby. The house was cleaned and a new room was painted and papered.

It was painted yellow- an unsure color. Meg couldn't tell _what_ she was carrying. Unlike with Elissa, she didn't get a feeling one way or another.

The pregnancy wore out Meg completely and she napped during the day, glad for the first time that Elissa was away at school. Caressa began to plan the meals alone, and Meg felt guilty. But all together it went smoothly.

It was right in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve when her water broke.

Erik had his arm around her, and they were snuggling on the couch, watching the fire after having successfully laid out all of Elissa's gifts under the tree.

Their hands intertwined and Meg rested her head on Erik's shoulder, and kissed his throat. She felt so at peace.

This was paradise, it had to be.

"Merry Christmas," she whispered, snuggling close to him, her feet tucked neatly under her skirts, on the couch. Not a bit of her touching the floor. Erik kissed the top of her head.

That was when she felt it. She was _sure_! She sat up suddenly and looked at Erik, rubbing her abdomen and looking worried.

Erik didn't even think- he grabbed her, scooped her up, and carried her wedding-style up to their bedroom. The contractions started halfway up the stairs, and Meg tried not to cry out from the pain and wake Elissa. Meg held onto Erik's lapels for dear life.

Erik laid Meg down on the bed, and then sprinted down the street to Caressa and Jean-Paul's cottage.

They arrived back at the house to find Elissa asking Meg, what's wrong, Mommy?

Meg smoothed her precious daughter's curly black hair, trying not to show any pain. "Nothing, Precious. Won't Santa be upset you're still awake?"

Elissa looked torn. She wanted to help her mother, but could she risk angering the all powerful Santa Claus?

Erik grabbed Elissa's shoulders. "Erik," Meg said, relieved, laying her head back on the pillow.

The father escorted the daughter out, and tucked her right back into bed. Erik kissed her forehead and asked her to go back to sleep. It was a testament to how much she loved and trusted her father- for no one else would she go to bed while her mother, for all she knew, was dying down the hall.

Elissa closed her eyes obediently. Erik made sure she was actually asleep, and then hurried into the master bedroom. He just burst in.

Meg was red faced and in pure agony. She was trying desperately to be quiet, but it wasn't exactly working at all.

She turned her face and looked in the door frame. She gave a small cry when she saw Erik, and desperately held out her hand, begging him to come to her.

How could he stay away? He ran to her and kneeled next o her on the floor. He grabbed Meg's hand and pressed it to his lips, feverishly.

Meg's contraction died and her body relaxed. Erik could see sweat forming on her forehead.

"What's this?" Caressa said, sharply. "No, no, none of this. You're a man; you wait outside. Shoo!"

Caressa somehow plucked Erik from Meg's side and shooed him out into the hall. The door was shut, and he could hear Meg's calls for him, before he realized he had just been thrown out of his own bedroom.

Oh, he wanted to pull his hair out. That was how angry he was. Society demanded that he wait outside. But he didn't want to! _Fuck_ society! Meg was delivering his child, and if he wanted to help, he should be able to help!

Erik looked down the hall, nervously. Elissa's door was ajar. Was Jean-Paul with her? He must have been.

Erik ran his fingers through his hair. Was no other man on the face of the earth tormented by being shut out like this?

He made a decision after Meg called out his name again, begging him to come to her. He threw open the door, and for the second time that night, ran into the room.

"Master Erik," Caressa growled. Erik glared at Caressa.

"My wife is calling me, and I am going to answer."

He gently pushed Caressa aside with one hand and walked calmly to Meg. She smiled, but Erik knew she was in absolute agony.

He knelt beside her, and took her hand.

* * *

Erik was there! He was actually there holding her hand, looking worried. Love overcame her. She wanted to make him proud. She needed to make him proud. And Elissa proud. And Mama proud. And the servants proud.

She wasn't scared anymore. Erik had given her courage. And when it came time to push, she pushed with all of her strength to make her loved ones proud. She closed her eyes in relief when she heard the baby's cries.

"It's a boy!" Caressa announced, happily, and Erik's face exploded in delight. He was almost jumping up and down.

He kissed all around Meg's face, repeating Caressa's words. Her eyes opened and she smiled at him. She stroked his face. She was at peace.

Caressa cleaned him up, and then laid his son in Erik's arms.

The baby stopped wailing when he was placed in his father's arms. He grabbed one of Erik's fingers in his little hand, and Erik completely melted. His hard shell coming down again.

Meg watched it all from the bed, smiling. She didn't think she had ever seen him so happy. She felt off in the corner. Just a pair of eyes, watching his jubilation. He must have wanted a son badly.

Erik carried the baby to Meg, who took him. He earned her love too, by letting out a huge yawn in her arms. The mother kissed her son's forehead, then kissed her husband's forehead.

Erik took the little boy (at Meg's urging) and went to go show Elissa and Jean-Paul. He had been gone for a good ten minutes, and Meg felt another contraction with dread. It wasn't over. But in joy, her mind screamed "twins"!

She cried out for Caressa and Erik. Caressa muttered wildly about young couples and their practices, but Erik must not have heard her, because he did not barge back into the room.

She called his name louder and louder and he ran in with Elissa and Jean-Paul right behind him. "It's a girl!" Caressa yelled, and the house broke into hysterics.

Elissa climbed like a monkey onto the bed and hugged Meg. "I said I didn't care if Santa Claus was mad at me, I just wanted you to be safe!"

Meg was honestly touched. She smoothed her daughter's beautiful black hair. "Thank you, Precious," was all she could say.

Elissa leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, relieved.

The little girl was laid in Meg's arms. She knew what she wanted to call her. "Aminta." She said, feeling sure. Erik's eyes widened.

Elissa loved it. "Can we name him Royce? Please? Please?" Elissa loved the name Royce. She had been calling just about _everything _Royce recently.

They reluctantly agreed to Royce.

* * *

Royce and Aminta grew up just as fast as Elissa did. The twins were both blonde, with very green eyes. While Elissa might have looked like Erik, Royce and Aminta looked like Meg.

When the twins were five, all of the children came down with a terrible case of flu. It fell to Caressa and Meg to take care of them.

The doctor was called in, and Erik was making infusions right and left, but poor Royce was just not getting better, long after Aminta and Elissa recovered.

Meg was frantic with worry. She stayed by Royce's bedside all day and even sometimes all night, trying to take care of her son. Sometimes she would not eat at all.

The doctor called Meg and Erik in from Royce's room. He shook his head and gave a deadline. Meg collapsed into Erik's arms and started to weep for her child, and Erik held onto her and asked the doctor if he was quite sure.

The doctor nodded and Meg cried harder, holding onto Erik for dear life. The servants showed the doctor out, and Erik cried as well.

"Oh my God," was all Meg could say. She spoke into Erik's shoulder, barely understandable because of her sobs. "Oh my God," she repeated it all over. Would God listen to a mother's desperate prayer? She prayed harder than ever before. "Our dear boy!"

Erik held her close, feeling helpless. And Erik absolutely hated feeling helpless.

* * *

"You are honestly suggesting that we kill our son." Meg said, facing the window in their bedroom. What was Erik suggesting? He said he could make Royce die a painless death.

Wasn't that murder? That was murder. Was Erik out of his head? She wanted to shake Erik, badly.

"It would be kinder." He said.

"No, it wouldn't," Meg growled. She looked at him over her shoulder, and Erik saw the tears in her eyes. "Erik, that's murder."

"No it isn't,"

"Erik, it is!" Meg cried, feeling lost. "You can't, I won't…"

_Don't cry, Meg, don't cry._ She hadn't cried so much since Erik was under arrest.

He moved towards her, and put his arms around her waist. "Meg, think of Royce. Do you want him to suffer? Does he want to suffer?"

"I can't believe you're saying this." She looked into his eyes. "Erik, as a mother and your wife, I beg of you. Don't do this."

He looked at her. Withdrew his arms, and nodded. He moved to the window and shoved his hands in his pockets, again feeling useless, and probably angry at the world.

She followed him and stood on her tiptoes to kiss the back of his neck. And then she slid her arms around him and kissed his shoulder blade. "Erik, I love you," She sang quietly, and Erik relaxed, just like before.

"God knows I don't deserve you, Meg," He murmured, and Meg smiled into his shoulder blade. That was an 'I love you too,'

* * *

"Mommy," Royce's little voice was strained, tired. "Mommy, I'm thirsty," he said, pathetically. Meg smiled half heartedly and kissed his little forehead.

"I'll get you some water, dear." Meg took the empty glasses around the room and went to the door.

"I love you, Mommy."

Her hand froze on the doorknob.

"I love you too, Royce," She said, smiling back at her little boy.

Erik gave her a tired smile as she passed him. "Erik, will you sit with Royce for a bit?" She stroked his cheek with the hand that didn't have all the glasses. Erik closed his eyes and rolled his head into her hand. He sighed, and then nodded.

"Thank you," she whispered, and she watched him enter Royce's room. Meg walked down the stairs and went to the kitchen, getting a fresh glass out of the cabinet and pumping water into the glass.

She climbed the stairs again, and felt something pass by her, something feather light against her cheek. Like a kiss…? But there was nothing there!

She opened the door to Royce's room and there was Erik, holding Royce desperately, the little boy's eyes open, staring at the ceiling, but they did not see.

Meg understood. She dropped the glass and it shattered, water and glass flying everywhere. She covered her eyes with her hands and screamed as she had never screamed before

They buried him that Sunday.

* * *

Meg's only solace was her family. She spent most of her time staring out the window; goodness knows just _what_ she was looking at.

It was then when Erik started to call Aminta his Sunshine. It definitely fit her- she was the happiest girl in the world. And eventually Meg started calling her that, too.

She won the heart of the family.

The girls eventually grew up and married- Elissa married the lead tenor from the Opera Populaire, from all places (Erik actually approved of his voice), and Aminta married a young, upcoming man from Erik's work. They both had three children. Meg and Erik loved all of their grandchildren.

When they finally separated, through death, they clung to each other in heaven- in a place where Erik was beautiful, there was no death, Royce was alive, and there was constant music.

THE END

* * *

_Aminta laid down her pen, fresh from completing the novel that consumed her and her sister for the past three months._

_But now that epic was over. And the only thing the blonde could do now was to stare at the completed manuscript in somewhat surprised horror. This monster of truth had consumed all of her for quite a long time was now _finished!

_For a while, she thought; "I must have missed something- I should go back and add more." But when she flipped to the first page and dipped her pen into the ink, she came upon the saddening realization that she couldn't possibly add anything more to the story._

_Slowly, she replaced the pen into it's holder._

_So it was finished, then. Aminta rummaged through the drawers of her desk and pulled out two extra sheets of creamy white paper. _

_With one sheet, she wrote the title of the story, and threaded the pages together in purple ribbon that she had set aside a while ago for that very purpose. _

_She tied the sheets together. She took the second sheet and wrote;_

Dear Elissa,

It's over. Is tomorrow agreeable?

Love from,

Aminta

_Aminta folded the letter and used her sealing wax to finish the letter. She left it for the servants to find… and then the idea struck her._

_Slowly, very slowly, she picked up her pen again and scribbled something down- right below the title…

* * *

_

"_Do you have the manuscript?" Elissa asked when she first saw Aminta. _

_The younger sister nodded and presented the gift-wrapped manuscript, which just a few seconds ago, was tucked safely in her jacket. _

_Elissa took it gingerly and handed her manuscript over to Aminta. The older sister looked around and then gingerly wiped off the snow off of a branch of a tree and sank down on top of it. Aminta followed her example._

_And they read the two stories together._

_When they finished, snow was falling again, and they began to trudge carefully to the site. _

_Aminta looked over Elissa's shoulder as they finally reached their destination. A huge grave stone covered the head of two bulges in the ground. One was clearly freshly dug, while the other had a nice, thick layer of snow on top of it._

_Mr. and Mrs. Erik and Marguerite Giry_

_Man and Wife Rest Here- In Hope Of One Resurrection._

_The name "Marguerite" marked the grave blanketed in snow, while the name "Erik" marked the fresh grave. _

_Aminta hooked her arm with her sister and looked at their parents. A single tear slid down her cheek, and Elissa said, "Oh, Aminta," and wiped her little sister's eyes with her favorite handkerchief. _

_The younger sister sniffed and gave a little smile, and then, she bent down and deposited the second manuscript that she had helped finish just yesterday. _

_On the paper was:_

_You Are My Only One:_

_A story of love and devotion._

_Dedicated to our loving Mama and Papa-_

_Who shared one love, one lifetime._

_**THE END. **_

_**REALLY THIS TIME.**_


End file.
